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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEB«.I«R,N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
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which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checlted  below. 


n 


□ 


n 


D 

0 


D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommagie 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurie  et/ou  pelllcul6e 


I      I    Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  g6ographiques  en  couleur 


□    Coloured  inic  (I.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  do  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

I      I    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Reiid  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  Interior  margin/ 

Lareliure  serr^e  peut  causer  de  Tombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intirieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutdes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  la  texte, 
mais.  lorsque  cela  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  dt6  filmdes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl6mentaires: 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exempiaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6x6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exempiaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mithode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquis  ci-dessous. 


I      I   Coloured  pages/ 


v/ 


0 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqui  ci-dessous. 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagdes 


□    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaur6es  et/ou  pelliculdes 

0    Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  ddcolordes,  tachetdes  ou  piqudes 

□    Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d6tach6es 


Showthrough/ 
Transparence 


I      I    Quality  of  print  varies/ 


Quality  indgale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppldmentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totaiement  ou  partieliement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'srrata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6t6  filmdes  i  nouveau  de  fa^on  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

y 

12X 

16X 

20X 

* 

24X 

28X 

32X 

The  copy  filmed  her*  ha*  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 


L'exempiaire  fiimA  fut  reproduit  grAce  A  la 
ginAroeiti  de: 


Lakehead  University 
Thunder  Bay 

The  image*  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impree- 
sion,  and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  '-i*^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  y  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Lakehead  University 
Thunder  Bay 

Les  images  suivantes  ont  6tA  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  st 
de  le  nettet«  de  l'exempiaire  film*,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couvertura  an 
papier  est  imprimAe  tont  filmte  en  commen9ant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration.  soit  par  is  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  euemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmte  en  commenpant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  derniire  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
derniAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — »•  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner^  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtra 
filmte  A  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrants. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  fttre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichA,  il  est  film*  A  partir 
de  I'anglef  sup*rieur  gauche,  de  gaucho  d  droits, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nicassaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mithode. 


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STORIES 


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THE  CANADIAN  FOREST; 


m^'i-      < 


f ittle  Sara  anir  fer  lum. 


BT 


MRS.     TRAILL, 

AUTHOB    or    "the     CANADIAN    ORVSOKfl,'*     IVdt 


WITH 


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ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  HARTST. 


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Weto  ¥otifct 
C  S.  FRANCIS  &  CO.,  554  BROADWAY. 

.?^  BOSTON  :-£3DEVONSHI^  STBEET. 


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1859. 


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I  .  ) 


CONTENTS. 


.J'- 


07  .AFTER  L 


PAai 


The  Flying  Squirrel— its  Food—Story  of  a  Wolf— In- 
dian Yillage-Wild  Hice        9 

CHAPTER  IL  •     ^ 

Sleighing— Sleigh  Robea— Fur  Caps— Otter  Skins— Old 
Snow-storm — Otter  Hunting — Otter  Slides — Indian 
Names— Remarks  on  Wild  Animals  and  their 
Habits  29 


>♦ 


CHAPTER  HI. 

Little  Mary  Reads  to  Mrs.  Frazer  the  First  Fart  of  the 

History  of  the  Squirrel  Family       .        .         .        .    40 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Which  tells  how  the  grey  Squirrels  get  on  while  they 
remained  on  Pine  Island — how  they  behaved  to 
their  Poor  Relations,  the  Chitmunk#— and  what 
happened  to  them  in  the  Forest      ...        .68 

CHAPTER  V. 

How  the  Squirrels  got  'to  the  Mill  at  the  Rapids — and 
what  happened  to  Velvet-paw       .        .        ,       .78 


•# 


■  ■*■■: 


m 


w  ! 


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■■* 


m.''-^- 


■■:t*'4 


6 


*.!.. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Pf 


^#- 


FAOI 


Squirrels — ^the  Chitmunka — Docility  of  a  Pet  One — 
Roguery  of  a  Pedlar — Return  of  the  Musical  Chit- 
munk  to  his  Master's  Bosom — Sagacity  of  a  Black 

' '     Squirrel  .        .        .        *       *       ,        .        .  101 

V 

CHAPTER  VIL 

Indian  Basltets— Thread  Plants — Maple  Sugar-tree— In- 
dian Cruamental  Works^-^Raeooons        .        .        .116 


'■&i 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Canadian  Birds — Snow  Sparrow — Robin  Red-Breast— 

Canadian  Flowers-^Amerie^h  Porcupine       .        .181 


t'.  - .'  >  t 


GHAFtER  IXi 


Indian  Bag  —  Indian  Embroidery  —  Beaver's  "Ifaii  — 
Beaver  Architecture  —  Habits  of  the  Beaver-— 
Beaver  Tools — ^Beaver  Meadows     .  .  i41 


■m^r 


CHAPTER  X. 


Indian  Boy  and  his  Pets — Tame  Beaver  at  Home — 
Kitten,  Wildfire — ^Pet  Raccoon  and  the  Spaniel 
Puppies — Canadian  Flora 167 

*. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Nurse  tells  Mary  about  a  little  Boy  teho  was  eaten  by 
a  Bear  in  the  Province  of  New  ^jrunswick — of  a 
Baby  that  was  carried  away,  but  taken  alive — a  ' 
Walk  in  the  Gardeu-^Humming  Birds-M^anadian 
Balsams  . 166 


.*-::-o- 


m 


i'Cil.:v>i£iti5>«ai-';' 


w«.;:l&.j.;.l;»i'5«;ff:jfeii^.i'^di*wJS*tssL:- 


-^f:;  •  .        •  '  :''^''''^'- 

*..;?■'    '  CONTENTS,  '7 

CHAPTER  XII. 

PACOI 

Aurora  Borealis,  or  Northern  Lights,  most  frequently 
Been  in  Northern  Climates— -called  Merry  Dancers 
— Rose  Tints — ^Tint-like  appearance — Little  Mary 

-       frightened 188 

CHAPTER  XHL  ^ 

Strawberries — Canadian  wild  Fruits — wild  Raspberries 
.  —the  Hunter  and  the  Lost  Child— Cranberries — 
Cranberry  Marshes — Nuts 192 

CHAPTER  XIV.  '% 

.""■  ■,> 

Oarter-Snakes  — Rattlesnakes— Anecdote  of  a  little 
Boy — ^Fisherman  and  Snake — Snake  charmers — 
Spiders — Land  Tortoise .210 

CHAPTER  XV;  H 

Siien  and  her  Pet  Fawns— docility  of  Fan— Jack's 
droll  Tricks— Affectionate  Wolf— Fall  Flowers- 
departure  of  little  Mary — the  End  ....  224 

■  .  .  .■* 


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A   PEEP   INTO 


THE   CANADIAN   FOREST. 


CHAPTER    I. 


THE  FLYING  SQUIRREL — ITS  POOD — STORY  OP  A  WOLF— 
tSDtAif    VILLAGE— WILD    RICE. 


"  "VTURSE,  what  is  the  name  of  that  pretty 
creature  yoa  have  in  your  hand?  What 
bright  eyes  it  has  I  What  a  soft  tail,  just  like 
a  grey  feather!  Is  it  a  little  beaver?"  asked 
a  little  girl,  the  daughter  of  a  gentleman  con- 
nected with  the  government  of  Canada,  as  her 
nurse  came  into  the  room  where  her  young 
charge,  whose  name  was  Mary,  was  playing 
with  her  dolL 


*' 


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10 


# 


THE  OAKADIAN  FOBEST. 


.  Carefully  sheltered  against  her  breast,  its 
velvet  nose  just  peeping  f3rom  beneath  her 
muslin  neckerchief,  the  nurse  held  a  small 
grey-furred  animal,  of  the  most  delicate  form 
and  colour. 

"No,  my  dear,"  she  replied,  "this  is  not  a 
young  beaver ;  a  beaver  is  a  much  larger  ani- 
mal. A  beaver's  tail  is  not  covered  with  fiir ; 
it  is  scaly,  broad,  and  flat;  it  looks  something 
like  black  leather,  not  very  unlike  that  of  my 
seal-skin  slippers.  The  Indians  eat  beavers* 
tails  at  their  great  feasts,  and  think  they  make 
an  excellent  dish." 

*  "If  they  ai'e  black,  and  look  like  leather 
shoes,  I  am  very  sure  I  should  not  like  to  eat 
them;  so,  if  you  please,  Mrs.  Frazer,  do  not 
let  me  have  any  beavers'  tails  cooked  for  my 
dinner,"  said  the  little  lady  in  a  very  decided 
tone, 

"Indeed,  my  dear,"  replied  her  nurse,  smil- 
ing, "it  would  not  be  an  easy  thing  to  obtain, 
if  you  wished  to  taste  one,  for  beavers  are  not 
brought  to  our  market.    It  is  only  the  Indians 
,  ,and  himters  who  know  how  to  trap  them,  and 


fl 


^'■l?!: 


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'M^.' 


THE  FLTING  SQ^JIEREL. 


11 


I 


beavers  are  not  so  plentiful  sa  thej  used  to 
be."  ^^ 

Mrs.  Frazer  would  have  told  Mary  a  great 
deal  about  the  way  in  which  the  trappers  take 
the  beavers,  but  the  little  girl  interrupted  her 
by  saying,  "  Please,  nurse,  will  you  tell  me  the 
name  of  your  pretty  pet?  Ah,  sweet  thing  1 
what  bright  eyes  you  have  I"  she  added,  caress- 
ing the  soft  little  head  which  was  just  seen 
from  beneath  the  folds  of  the  muslin  handker- 
chief to  which  it  timidly  nestled,  casting  ftirtive 
glances  at  the  admiring  child,  while  the  pant-, 
ing  of  its  breast  told  the  mortal  terror  that 
shook  its  frame  whenever  the  little  girl's  hand 
was  advanced  to  coax  its  soft  back. 

"It  is  a  flying  squirrel,  Mary,"  replied  her 
nurse ;  "  one  of  my  brothers  caught  it  a  month 
ago,  when  he  was  chopping  in  the  forest.  He 
thought  it  might  amuse  j^our  ladyship,  and 
so  he  tamed  it,  and  sent  it  to  me  in  a  basket 
filled  with  moss,  with  some  acorns,  and  hickory- 
nuts,  and  beech-mast  for  him  to  eat  on  his 
journey,  for  the  little  fellow  has  travelled  a 
long  way :  he  came  from  the  beech- woods  near 


m-. 


■:■';«', 


':  -j 


•:t(., 


12 


THE  CANADIAN"  FOREST. 


the   town   of  Coburg,   in  the  Upper   Pror- 


\  I 


n 


ince. 

"  And  where  is  Coburg,  nurse  ?  Is  it  a  large 
oily  like  Montreal  or  Quebec  ?" 

"No,  my  dear;  it  is  a  large  town  on  the 
shores  of  the  great  Lake  Ontario." 

"And  are  there  many  woods  near  it?" 

"Yes;  but  not  so  many  as  there  used  to  be 
many  years  ago.  The  forest  is  almost  all  cleared, 
and  there  are  fields  of  wheat  and  Indian  corn, 
and  nice  farms  and  pretty  houses,  where  a  few 
years  back  the  lofty  forest  grew  dark  and  thick." 

"Nurse,  you  said  there  were  acorns,  and 
hickory-nuts,  and  beech-mast  in  the  basket.  I 
have  seen  acorns  at  home  in  dear  England  and 
Scotland,  and  I  have  eaten  the  hickory -nuts 
here;  but  what  is  beech-mast?  Is  it  any  part 
of  a  Canadian  ship  ?" 

"  No,  Mary ;  it  is  the  name  that  is  given  to 
the  fruit  of  the  beech-tree.  You  have  seen  the 
beech-tree  in  England :  the  nuts  are  inclosed  in 
a  rough  and  somewhat  prickly  husk,  which 
opens  when  it  is  ripe  at  the  top,  and  shows  two 
OT  more  three-cornered  shining  brown  seeds,  in 


..#,.. 


^i!'^^a</&'ui^«^4Srii£Si<^Ki;dy  ■;■«■;;. 


'<-. 


.■w 


*. 


ITS  FOOD. 


■0f': 


18 


a  smooth,  tougli,  leathery  skin ;  these  faU  out, 

shaken  by  the  wind,  when  it  waves  the  bought 

Hogs  fatten  upon  these  nuts ;  and  squirrels,  an<^ 

dormice,  and  wood-chucks  gather  them  into 

their  granaries    for  winter  stores ;    and  wild 

ducks    and  wild  pigeons  come  from  the  fax 

north  at  the  season  when  the  beech-mast  fall,  to 

eat  them ;  for  God  teaches  these.  His  creatures, 

to  know  the  times  and  the  seasons  when  His 

bounteous  hand  is  open  to  give  them  food  from 

His  boundless  store.    A  great  many  other  birds 

and  beasts  also  feed  upon  the  beech-mast."   ^ ., 

ft 
"  It  was  very  good  of  your  brother  to  send 

me  this  pretty  creature,  nurse,"  said  the  little 

lady;    "I  will  ask  Papa  to  give  him  som^ 

money."  ,  ^^0,g',.i0*b 

"There  is  no  need  of  that,  Mary.  My 
brother  is  not  in  want;  he  has  a  farm  in  the 
Upper  Province,  and  is  very  well  off." 

"I  am  glad  he  is  well  off,"  said  Maiy ;  *•  in- 
deed, I  do  not  see, so, many  beggars  here  as 
in  England." 

"  People  need  not  beg  in  Canada,  if  they  are 
well  and  strong,  and  can  work;  a  poor  man 


h 


•  »" 


.^' 


:-?*■' 


14 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


'^■^■*'"' 


can  soon  earn  money  enough  to  keep  himself 
and  his  little  ones." 

"  Nurse,  will  you  l^e  so  kind  as  to  ask  Camp- 
bell to  get  a  pretty  ca,ge  for  my  squirrel?  I 
will  let  him  live  close  to  my  dormice,  who 
will  be  pleasant  company  for  him,  and  I  will 
feed  him  every  day  myself  with  nuts  and 
sugar,  and  sweet  cake  and  white  bread.  Now 
do  not  tremble  and  look  so  frightened,  as 
"though  I  were  going  to  hurt  you;  and  pray, 
Mr.  Squirrel,  do  not  bite.  Oh  I  nurse,  nurse, 
the  wicked,  spiteful  creature  has  bitten  my 
finger  I  See,  see  I  it  has  made  it  bleed  I 
Naughty  thing  1  I  will  not  love  you  if  you 
bite.  Pray,  nurse,  bind  up  my  finger,  or  it 
will  soil  my  frock." 

Great  was  the  pity  bestowed  upon  the  wound 
by  Mary's  kind  attendant,  till  the  little  girl, 
tired  of  hearing  so  much  said  about  the  bit- 
ten finger,  gravely  desired  her  maid  to  go  in 
search  of  the  cage,  and  catch  the  truant, 
which  had  effected  its  escape,  and  was  cling- 
ing to  the  curtains  of  the  bed.  The  cage 
was  procured — a,  large  wooden  cage,  with  an 


'iiituaiii  >>„!  „ 


'  »,■  ,  ji  i-i', 


THE  WONDERS  OF  NATURE. 


15 


outer  and  an  inner  chamber,  a  bar  for  the  lit- 
tle fellow  to  swing  himself  on,  and  a  drawer 
for  his  food,  and  a  little  dish  for  his  water. 
The  sleeping-room  was  furnished  by  the  nurse 
with  soft  wool,  and  a  fine  store  of  nuts  was 
put  in  the  drawer;  all  his  wants  were  well 
supplied,  and  Mary  watched  the  catching  of 
the  little  animal  with  much  interest.  Great 
was  the  activity  displayed  by  the  runaway 
squirrel,  and  still  greater  the  astonishment 
evinced  by  the  little  girl,  at  the  flying  leaps 
made  by  the  squirrel  in  its  attempts  to  elude 
the  grasp  of  its  pursuers. 

"  It  flies  1  I  am  sure  it  must  have  wings. 
Look,  look,  nurse  I  it  is  here,  now  it  is  on  the 
wall,  now  on  the  curtains  I  It  must  have  wings, 
but  it  has  no  feathers  I" 

"It  has  no  wings,  my  dear,  but  it  has  a 
fine  ridge  of  fur,  that  covers  a*  strong  sinew 
or  muscle  between  the  fore  and  hinder  legs; 
and  it  is  by  the  help  of  this  muscle  that  it 
is  able  to  spring  so  far,  and  so  fast;  and  its 
claws  are  so  sharp  that  it  can  cling  to  a 
wall,  or  any  flat  surface.    The  black  and  red 


■'(Hfl('J 


>*. 


lii^MsiiiMit 


1*'.1  :i'.-^'!,4ii^'i  'k'- . 


i'«;i«;)»w:BjssiX.-^i 


/-:■-« 


'V<^7Ffir'?i'T-f--'^''4f|WT"T"^  r;-T^.  ri 


'"^^t 


16 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


I. 


it 


"*^' 
>i*i, 


eqxiirrels,  and  the  common  grey,  can  jump 
very  far,  and  run  up  the  bark  of  the  trees 
very  fast,  but  not  so  fiist  as  the  flying  squir- 
rel." 

At  last  Mary's  maid,  with  the  help  of  one 
of  the  housemaids,  succeeded  in  catching  the 
squirrel,  and  securing  him  within  his  cage. 
But  though  Mary  tried  all  her  words  of  en- 
dearment to  coax  the  little  creature  to  eat 
*tome  of  the  good  things  that  had  been  pro- 
vided so  liberally  for  his  entertainment,  he 
remained  sullen  and  motionless  at  the  bottom 
of  the  cage.  A  captive  is  no  less  a  captive 
in  a  cage  with  gilded  bars,  and  with  dainties 
to  eat,  than  if  rusted  iron  shut  him  in,  and 
kept  him  from  enjoying  his  freedom.  It  is 
for  dear  liberty  that  he  pines,  and  is  sad, 
even  in  the  midst  of  plenty  I 

"Dear  nur^e,  why  does  my  little  squirrel 
tremble  and  look  so  unhappy?  Tell  me  if 
he  wants  any  thing  to  eat  that  we  have  not 
given  him.  Why  does  he  not  he  down  and 
sleep  on  the  nice  soft  bed  you  have  made 
for  him  in  his  little  chamber?    See,  he  has 


^.;o£^.. 


.■i»».  .,#-■ 


:<54f"-  -■■;'■ 


am^. 


#■ 


'^^-^ 


HUMANE  RESOLVE. 


17 


not  tasted  the  nice  sweet  cake  and  sugar 
that  I  gave  him." 

"He  is  not  used  to  such  dainties,  Mary. 
In  the  forest,  he  feeds  upon  hickory -nuts,  and 
butter-nuts,  and  acorns,  and  beech-mast,  and 
the  buds  of  the  spruce,  fir  and  pine  kernels, 
and  many  other  seeds  and  nuts  and  berries, 
that  we  could  not  get  for  him ;  he  loves  grain, 
too,  and  Indian  corn.  He  sleeps  on  green 
moss  and  leaves,  and  fine  fibres  of  grass  and 
roots;  and  drinks  heaven's  blessed  dew,  as 
it  lies  bright  and  pure  upon  the  herbs  of  the 
field." 

"  Dear  little  squirrel,  pretty  creature  I  I  know 
now  what  makes  you  sad.  You  long  to  be 
abroad  among  your  own  green  woods,  and 
sleeping  on  the  soft,  green  moss,  which  is  far 
prettier  than  this  ugly  cotton  wool.  But  you 
shall  stay  with  me,  my  sweet  one,  till  the  cold 
winter  is  passed  and  gone,  and  the  spring  flow- 
ers have  come  again ;  and  then,  my  pretty 
squirrel,  I  will  take  you  out  of  your  dull  cage, 
and  we  will  go  to  St.  Helen's  green  island,  and 
I  will  let  you  go  fi:ee ;  but  I  will  put  a  scarlet 


•CV':^.« 


2* 


B 


•T.-^;, 


0' 


■•# 


*iig-.'  'V  ■.>uifj'.v,^wi,>j, . 


.£-:.;:.;ai' 


■•a 


s^^f^^wl'" 


I  «  ■■>i  lu  <  I    ""  m^mv  •  '»■' 


r^,: 


.■*ii»' 


18 


THE  CANADIAN  PORKST. 


Ill 


i  I 


collar  about  your  neck  before  I  let  you  go,  that 
if  any  one  finds  you,  tbey  may  know  that  you 
are  my  squirrel.  Were  you  ever  in  the  green 
forest,  nurse?  I  hear  papa  talk  about  the 
'bush'  and  the  'backwoods;'  it  must  be  very 
pleasant  in  the  summer,  to  live  among  the 
green  trees.    Were  you  ever  there?" 

"Yes,  my  dear,  I  did  live  in  the  woods 
when  I  was  a  child.  I  was  bom  in  a  little 
lOg-shanty,  far,  far  away  up  the  country,  near 
a  beautiful  lake,  called  Kice  Lake,  among 
woods,  and  valleys,  and  hills  covered  with 
flowers,  and  groves  of  pine,  and  white  and 
black  oaks." 

"  Stop,  nurse,  and  tell  me  why  they  are  called 
black  and  white;  are  the  flowers  black  and 
white  ?" 

"No,  my  dear;  it  is  because  the  wood  of 
the  one  is  darker  than  the  other,  and  the  leaves 
of  the  black  oak  are  dark  and  shin  Id  p;  vMle 
those  of  the  white  oak  are  brighter  .ua.  iigi^ter. 
The  black  oak  is  a  beautiful  tree.  When  I 
vr4S  a  young  girl,  I  used  to  like  to  climb  the 
fades  of  ^'le  st<iep  valleys,  and  look  down  upon 


#- 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  WOLF. 


19 


the  tops  of  the  oak;  that  grew  beneath;  and 
to  watch  the  wind  lifting  the  boughs  all  glitter- 
ing in  the  moonlight;  they  looked  like  a  sea 
of  ruffled  green  water.  It  is  very  solemn,  Mary, 
<v  l/>  in  the  woods  by  night,  and  to  hear  no 
douTid  but  the  cry  of  the  great  wood-owl,  or  the 
voice  of  the  whip-poor-will,  calling  to  his  fel- 
low from  the  tamarack  swamp;  or,  may  be, 
the  timid  bleating  of  a  fawn  that  has  lost  its 
mother,  or  the  howl  of  a  wolf" 

"Nurse,  I  should  be  so  afraid;  I  am  sure 
I  should  cry  if  I  heard  the  wicked  wolves 
howling  in  the  dark  woods,  by  night  Did 
you  ever  know  any  one  who  was  eaten  by  a 
wolf?" 

"  No,  my  dear ;  the  Canadian  wolf  is  a  great 
coward  I  have  heard  the  hunters  say,  that 
they  never  attack  any  one,  unless  there  is  a  ^ 
great  flock  together  and  the  man  is  alone  and 
onarmed.  My  uncle  used  to  go  out  a  great 
deal  hunting,  sometimes  by  torchlight,  and 
sometimes  on  the  lake  in  a  canoe,  with  the 
Indians ;  ana  he  shot  and  trapped  a  great  many 
wolves  and  foxes  and  raccoons.    He  has  a  greM  * 


ft- 


■■Jf 


m: 


i.^^iiMLr-'\,    Ua^J..     . 


-tC^' Jj.'-K-Si  J 


tais-.i  '.. 


,A  4feL'  *^i.>..^ia^. 


^<''X''^'^'^' '  ^''■''''"'■''^' 


■■"TyFWT-jT^,^*^ 


:'f.;ff*3ttf-:',f-;*'; " v;>,":^  ''.■■.■:".'?,?5\ 


20 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


ir  i 


I 


.     i 


'i- 


^ 


many  heads  of  wild  animals  nailed  up  on  tlie 
stoup  in  front  of  his  log-house." 

"Please  tell  me  what  a  stoup  is,  nurse?" 

"A  verandah,  my  child,  is  the  same  thing, 
only  the  old  Dutch  settlers  gave  it  the  name  of 
a  stoup ;  and  the  stoup  is  heavier  ana  broader, 
and  not  quite  so  nicely  made  as  a  verandah. 
One  day  my  uncle  was  crossing  the  lake  on 
the  ice ;  it  was  a  cold  winter  afternoon ;  he  was 
in  a  hurry  to  take  some  food  to  his  brothers, 
who  were  drawing  pine-logs  in  the  bush.  He 
had,  besides  a  bag  of  meal  and  flour,  a  new  axe 
on  his  shoulder.  He  heard  steps  as  of  a  dog 
trotting  after  him;  he  turned  his  head,  and 
there  he  saw  close  at  his  heels,  a  big,  hungry- 
looking  grey  wolf;  he  stopped  and  faced  about, 
and  the  big  beast  stopped  and  showed  his  white 
sharp  teeth.  My  uncle  did  not  feel  afraid,  but 
looked  steadily  at  the  wolf,  as  much  as  to  say, 
*  Follow  me,  if  you  dare,"  and  walked  on. 
"When  my  uncle  stopped,  the  wolf  stopped  • 
when  he  went  on,  the  beast  also  went  on." 

"  I  would  have  run  away,"  said  Mary. 

"If  my  uncle  had  let  the  wolf  see  that  he 


3* 


J! 


•"im^ 


STOET  OP  A  WOLF. 


21 


was  afraid  of  Mm,  lie  would  have  grown  bolder, 
and  have  run  after  him  and  seized  him.  All 
animals  are  afraid  of  brave  men,  but  not  of 
cowards.  When  the  beast  came  too  near,  my 
uncle  faced  him,  and  showed  the  bright  axe, 
and  the  wolf  then  shrank  back  a  few  paces. 
When  my  uncle  got  near  the  shore,  he  heard 
a  long  wild  cry,  as  if  from  twenty  wolves  at 
once.  It  might  have  been  the  echoes  from  the 
islands  that  increased  the  sound;  but  it  was 
very  frightful,  and  made  his  blood  clull,  for 
he  knew  that  without  his  rifle  he  should  stand 
a  poor  chance  against  a  large  pack  of  hungry 
wolves.  Just  then  a  gun  went  off;  he  heard 
the  wolf  give  a  terrible  yell,  he  felt  the  whizzing 
of  a  bullet  pass  him,  and,  turning  about,  saw 
the  wolf  lying  dead  on  the  ice.  A  loud  shout 
from  the  cedars  in  front  told  him  from  whom 
the  shot  came;  it  was  my  father,  who  had 
been  on  the  look-out  on  the  lake  shore,  and 
he  had  fired  at  and  hit  the  wolf,  when  he 
saw  that  he  could  do  so  without  hurting  his 
brother." 


■-%■ 


■^ 


.   ll*\i.-,i\■■.■^V.{^..'JZ^..^l^    -Ct    ;  !S-j'J.'iAui 


J.' 


.:f 


rn-'-k 


i 


.K 


22 


THE  CANADIAN  POEEST. 


^   "Nurse,  it  would  have  been  a  sad  tiling  if  * 
the  gun  had  shot  your  uncle." 

"It  would;  but  my  father  was  one  of  the 
best  shots  in  the  district,  and  could  hit  a  white 
spot  on  the  bark  of  a  tree  at  a  great  distance 
without  missing.  It  was  an  old  Indian  from 
Buckhom  Lake,  who  taught  him  to  shoot  deer 
by  torchlight,  and  to  trap  beavers."     "    ;  * 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  that  horrid  wolf  was  killed, 
for  wolves  eat  sheep  and  lambs ;  and  I  dare  say 
they  would  devour  my  little  squirrel  if  they 
could  get  him.  Nurse,  please  to  teU  me  again 
the  name  of  the  lake  near  which  you  were 
born."  . 

,  "It  is  called  Eice  Lake,  my  dear.  It  is  a 
fine  piece  of  water,  more  than  twenty  nules 
long,  and  from  three  to  five  miles  broad.  It 
has  pretty  wooded  islands,  and  several  rivers 
or  streams  empty  themselves  into  it.  The  Oton- 
abee  Eiver  is  a  fine  broad  stream,  which  flows 
through  the  forest  a  long  way.  Many  years 
ago,  there  were  no  clearings  on  the  banks, 
and  no  houses,  only  Indian  tents  or  wigwams ; 


'i\-i:«. . 

■m^:':. 


>■'?*';' 


.(iliTiiiiliMllJaiiilaiiiiiiiii. 


Ilg 


if" 


)f  tlie 
wliite 
[stance 
i  from 
ot  deer 

5  killed, 
laresay 
if  they 
ae  again 
pu  were 


It  is  a 

ty  nules 
toad.  It 
\\  rivers 
Ihe  Oton- 
IcIl  flows 

Ly  years 
banks, 

hgwams ; 


THE     OTTERS.     Pago  23. 


INDIAN  VILLAGE. 


23 


but  now,  there  are  a  great  many  houses  and 
farms." 

"What  are  wigwams?" 

"  A  sort  of  light  teat,  made  with  poles  stuck 
into  the  ground,  in  a  circle,  fastened  together 
at  the  top,  and  covered  on  the  outside  with 
skins  of  wild  animals,  or  with  birch  bark. 
The  Indians  light  a  fire  of  sticks  and  logs  on 
the  ground,  in  the  middle  of  the  wigwam,  and 
lie  or  sit  all  around  it;  the  smoke  goes  up  to 
the  top  and  escapes.  In  the  winter,  they  bank 
it  up  with  snow,  and  it  is  very  warm." 

"I  think  it  must  be  a  very  ugly  sort  of 
house ;  and  I  am  glad  I  do  not  live  in  an  In- 
dian wigwam,"  said  the  little  lady.  i^ 

"The  Indians  are  a  very  simple  folk,  my 
lady,  and  do  not  need  fine  houses,  like  this  in 
which  your  papa  lives.  They  do  not  know 
the  names  or  uses  of  half  the  fine  things  that 
are  in  the  houses  of  the  white  people.  They 
are  happy  and  contented  without  them.  It  is 
not  the  richest  that  are  happiest,  Mary,  and 
the  Lord  careth  for  the  poor  and  the  lowly. 
There  is  a  village  on  the  shores  of  Rice  Lake 


';:!^v>- 


■ ;  '-y. 


.,^., ,_.,., 


■  V 


,viw'ir;\"j 


r 


I' 


f  ^ 


24 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


where  the  Indians  live.  It  is  not  very  pretty. 
The  houses  axe  all  bmlt  of  logs,  and  some  of 
them  have  gardens  and  orchards.  They  have 
a  neat  church,  and  they  have  a  good  minis- 
ter, who  takes  great  pains  to  teach  them  the 
gospel  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  poor 
Indians  were  Pagans  until  within  the  last  few 
years." 

"  What  are  Pagans,  nurse  ?" 

"People  who  do  not  beheve  in  God,  and 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  our  blessed  Saviour." 

"Nurse,  is  there  real  rice  growing  in  the 
Eice  Lake?  I  heard  my  governess  say  that 
rice  grew  only  in  warm  countries.  Now,  your 
lake  must  be  very  cold  if  your  uncle  walked 
across  the  ice." 

"  This  rice,  my  dear,  is  not  real  rice.  I  heard 
a  gentleman  tell  my  father,  that  it  was,  properly 
speaking,  a  species  of  oats,* — water  oats  he 
called  it,  but  the  common  name  for  it  is  wild 
rice.  This  wild  rice  grows  in  vast  beds  in  the 
lake,  in  patches  of  many  acres.    It  will  grow 


*  Zizania,  or  water  oat& 


1  Hi- 


i 


;.'^;/#-     ■% 


'.i^.-JtlitiV 


•■■S'iij^: 


WILD  BIOS. 


«( 


in  wi^r  from  eight  to  ten  or  twelve  feet  de^ ; 
the  grassy  leaves  float  upon  the  water  like 
long  narrow  green  ribbons.  In  the  month 
of  August,  the  stem  that  is  to  bear  the  flower 
and  the  grain  rises  straight  up,  above  the  sur- 
face, and  light  delicate  blossoms  come  out,  of 
a  pale  straw  colour  and  lilac  They  are  very 
pretty,  and  wave  in  the  wind  with  a  rustling 
noise.  In  the  month  of  October,  when  the 
rice  is  ripe,  the  leaves  turn  yeUow,  and  the 
rice-heads  grow  heavy  and  droop;  then  the 
squaws— as  the  Indian  women  are  called — ^go 
out  in  their  birch-baric  canoes,  holding  in  one 
hand  a  stick,  in  the  other  a  short  curved  paddle, 
with  a  sharp  edge.  With  this,  they  bend  down 
the  rice  across  the  stick,  and  strike  o&  the 
heads,  which  fall  into  the  canoe,  as  they  push 
it  along  through  the  rice-beds.  In  this  way 
[they  collect  a  great  many  bushels  in  the  course 
|of  the  day.  The  wild  rice  is  not  the  least  like 
the  rice  which  your  ladyship  has  eaten;  it  w^^ 

and  covered  with  a  light  chaffy  husk. 
?he  colour  of  the  grain  itself  is  a  brownish 

reen,  or  olive,  smooth,  shining,  and  brittle. 
3 


^. 


■,.i>- 


t.^''-'-^^*.-. 


i^'y 


•^./^. 


'¥t-  "Vft 


26 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


|V      i 


■ 


n  -f 


After  separating  the  outward  chaff,  the  squaws 
put  by  a  large  portion  of  the  clean  rice  in  its 
natural  state  for  sale;  for  this  they  get  from 
a  dollar  and  a  half  o  two  dollars  a  bushel. 
Some  they  parch,  either  in  large  pots,  or  on 
mats  made  of  the  inner  bark  of  cedar  or  bass 
wood,  beneath  which  they  light  a  slow  fire, 
and  plant  around  it  a  temporary  hedge  of  green 
boughs,  closely  set  to  prevent  the  heat  from 
escaping;  they  also  plant  stakes,  over  which 
they  stretch  the  matting  at  a  certain  height 
above  the  :fire.  On  this  they  spread  the  green 
rice,  stirring  it  about  with  wooden  paddles, 
till  it  is  properly  parched;  this  is  known  by 
its  bursting  and  showing  the  white  grain  of 
the  flour.  When  quite  cool  it  is  stowed  away 
in  troughs,  scooped  out  of  butter-nut  wood,  or 
else  sewed  up  in  sheets  of  birch-bark  or  bass- 
mats,  or  in  coarsely  made  birch-bark  baskets." 
"  And  is  the  rice  good  to  eat,  nurse  ?" 
"Some  people  like  it  as  well  as  the  white 
rice  of  Carolina;  but  it  does  not  look  so  well. 
It  is  a  great  blessing  to  the  poor  Indians,  who 
boil  it  in  their  soups,  or  eat  it  with  maple 


WILD  RIOB. 


27 


molasses.  And  they  eat  it  when  parched  with- 
out any  other  cooking,  when  they  are  on  a 
long  journey  in  the  woods,  or  on  the  lakes. 
I  have  often  eaten  nice  puddicgs  made  of  it 
with  milk.  The  deer  feed  upon  the  green  rice. 
They  swim  into  the  water,  and  eat  the  green 
leaves  and  tops.  The  Indians  go  out  at  night 
to  shoot  the  deer  on  the  water ;  they  listen  for 
them,  and  shoot  them  in  the  dark.  The  wild 
ducks  and  water-fowls  come  down  in  great 
flocks  to  fatten  on  the  ripe  rice  in  the  fall  of 
the  year;  also  large  flocks  of  rice  buntings 
and  red-wings  which  make  their  roosts  among 
the  low  willows,  flags,  and  lilies,  close  to  the 
shallows  of  the  lake." 

"  It  seems  very  useful  to  birds  as  well  as  to 
men  and  beasts,"  said  little  Mary. 

"Yes,  my  dear,  and  to  fishes  also,  I  make 
no  doubt;  for  the  good  God  has  cast  it  so 
I  abundantly  abroad  on  the.  waters,  that  I  dare 
say  they  also  have  their  share.  When  the 
rice  is  fully  ripe,  the  sun  shining  on  it  gives 
it  a  golden  hue,  just  like  a  field  of  ripened 


■  "t-iSkH 


m 


TTi*»n5i^-"')f 


i 


w 


■A'  ■  m-' 


"■■'■  .'II  ' 

piiii 


'■i. 


» 


2d 


THI  OAIfAmAN  FOREST. 


4 


grain.  Surrounded  by  the  deep  blue  waters, 
it  looks  very  pretty." 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  yoti,  nttrse,  fof 
telling  me  so  much  about  the  Indian  rice,  and 
I  will  ask  mamma  to  let  me  have  some  one 
day  for  my  dinner,  that  I  may  know  how  it 
tastes." 

Just  then  Mary's  governess  came  to  bid  her 
nurse  dress  her  for  a  sleigh-ride,  and  so  for  the 
present  we  shall  leave  her;  but  we  will  tell  our 
little  readers  something  more  in  another  chap- 
ter about  little  Mary  and  her  flying  squirrel 


% 


SLEIGHINa. 


h 


CHAPTER    II. 


BLEIOHINQ SLEIGH  ROBES — FUR   CAPS — OTTER  SKINS-^ 

OLD  SNOW-STORM — OTTER  HUNTING — OTTER  SLIDES- 
INDIAN  NAMES — REMARKS  ON  WILD  ANIMALS  AND 
THEIR  HABITS. 

"  "VTURSE,  we  have  had  a  very  nice  sleigh- 
drive.  I  like  sleighing  very  much  over 
the  white  snow.  The  trees  look  so  pretty,  as 
if  they  were  covered  with  white  flowers,  and 
the  ground  sparkled  just  like  mamma's  dia- 
monds." 

"It  is  pleasant,  Mary,  to  ride  through  the 
woods  on  a  bright,  sunshiny  day,  after  a  fresh 
fall  of  snow.  The  young  evergreens,  hemlocks, 
balsams,  and  spruce-trees,  are  loaded  with  great 
masses  of  the  new-fallen  snow ;  while  the  slen- 
der saplings  of  the  beech,  birch,  and  basswood 
are  bent  down  to  the  very  ground,  making 
bowers  so  bright  and  beautiful,  you  would  be 
[delighted  to  see  them.     Sometimes,  as   you 


w 


■V- 


€ 


$ 


\f: 


,ir 


1 


4^1^^ 


60 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


drive  along,  great  masses  of  the  snow  come 
showering  down  upon  you;  but  it  is  so  light 
and  dry,  that  it  shakes  off  without  wetting 
you.  It  is  pleasant  to  be  wrapped  up  in  warm 
blankets,  or  buffalo  robes,  at  the  bottom  of  a 
lumber-slf)igh,  and  to  travel  through  the  forest 
by  moon  Ight ;  the  merry  bells  echoing  through 
the  silent  woods,  and  the  stars  just  peeping 
down  through  the  frosted  trees,  which  sparkle 
like  diamonds  in  the  moonbeams." 

"  N  urse,  I  should  like  to  take  a  drive  through 
the  forest  in  winter.  It  is  so  nice  to  hear  the 
sleigh-bells.  We  used  sometimes  to  go  out  in 
the  snow  in  Scotland,  but  we  were  in  the  car- 
riage, and  had  no  >ells." 

"  No,  dear :  the  snow  seldom  lies  long  enough 
in  the  old  country  to  make  it  worth  while  to 
have  sleighs  there ;  but  in  Eussia  and  Sweden, 
and  other  cold  northern  countries,  they  use 
sleighs  with  bells." 

Mary  ran  to  the  little  book-case,  where  she 
had  a  collection  of  children's  books,  and  very 
Boon  found,  in  one  of  Peter  Parley's  books,  a 


■••IT  -/-lyi  '■.'■»  ' 


SLEIGH  ROBES. 


8J 


picture  of  Laplanders  and  KusBians  wrapped  io 
furs  sleighin  ^. 

"  How  long  wfll  the  winter  last,  nurse  ?"  said 
the  child,  after  she  had  tired  herself  with  look 
ing  at  the  prints ;  "  a  long,  long  time — a  great 
many  weeks  ? — a  great  many  months  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear ;  five  or  six  months." 

"  Oh,  that  is  nice — ^nearly  half  a  year  of  white 
snow,  and  sleigh-drives  every  day,  and  bells 
ringing  all  the  timel  I  tried  to  make  out  a 
tune,  but  they  only  seemed  to  say,  'Up-hill, 
up-hill  I  down-hill,  down-hill  I'  all  the  way. 
Nurse,  please  tell  me  what  are  sleigh-robes 
made  of?" 

"  Some  sleigh-robes,  Mary,  are  made  of  bear- 
skins, lined  with  red  or  blue  flannel ;  some  are 
of  wolf-skins,  lined  with  bright  scarlet  cloth; 
and  some  of  raccoon ;  the  commonest  are  buf- 
falo-skins :  I  have  seen  some  of  deer-skins,  but 
these  last  are  not  so  good,  as  the  hair  comes 
off,  and  they  are  not  so  warm  as  the  skins  of 
the  furred  or  woolly-coated  animals." 

"I  sometimes  see  long  tails  hanging  down 
over  the  backs  of  the  sleigh  and  cutters — ^they 


-'-* 


■•■;•:  r-: 


82 


THE  Canadian  forest. 


\    ' 


i    I 


1  ii 


look  very  pretty,  like  the  end  of  mamma's 
boa." 

"The  wolf  and  raccoon-skia  robes  are  gen- 
erally made  up  with  the  tails,  and  sometimes 
the  heads  of  the  animals  are  also  left.  I  no- 
ticed the  head  of  a  wolf,  with  its  sharp  ears, 
and  long  white  teeth,  looking  very  fierce,  at 
the  back  of  a  cutter,  the  other  day." 

"Nurse,  that  must  have  looked  very  droll. 
Do  you  know,  I  saw  a  gentleman,  the  other 
day,  walking  with  papa,  who  had  a  fox-skin 
cap  on  his  head,  and  the  fox's  nose  was  just 
peeping  over  his  shoulder,  and  the  tail  hung 
down  his  back,  and  I  saw  its  bright,  black 
eyes  looking  so  cunning.  I  thought  it  must 
be  alive,  and  that  it  had  curled  itself  round 
his  head;  but  the  gentleman  took  it  off,  and 
showed  me  that  the  eyes  were  glass." 

"Some  hunters,  Mary,  make  caps  of  otter, 
mink,  or  badger  skins,  and  ornament  them  with 
the  tails,  heads,  and  claws." 

"  I  have  seen  a  picture  of  the  otter,  nurse ; 
it  is  a  pretty,  soft-looking  thing,  with*  a  round 
head  arid  black  eyes.    Where  do  otters  live?" 


itafc    .  -  ;ii 


OTTER  HUNTING. 


m 


"The  Canadian  otters  live  in  holes  in  th^ 
banks  of  sedgy,  shallow  lakes,  mill-ponds,  and 
sheltered  creeks.  The  Indian  hunters  find  their 
haunts  by  tracking  their  steps  in  the  snowj' 
for  an  Indian  or  Canadian  hunter  knows  the 
track  made  by  any  bird  or  beast,  from  the 
deep  broad  print  of  the  bear,  to  the  tiny  one 
of  the  little  shrjArmouse,  which  is  the  smallest 
four-footed  beast  in  this  or  any  other  country." 

"Indians  catch  the  otter,  and  many  other 
wild  animals,  in  a  sort  of  trap,  which  they  call 
a  *dead-faU.*  "Wolves  are  often  so  trapped, 
and  then  shot.  The  Indians  catch  the  otter 
for  the  sake  of  its  dark  shining  for,  which  is 
used  by  ih«  hatters  and  fiirriers.  Old  Jacob 
Snow-storm,  an  old  Indian  who  lived  on  the 
banks  of  the  Bice  Lake,  used  to  catch  otters ; 
and  I  have  often  listened  to  him,  and  laughed 
at  his  stories." 

"Do,  please,  nurse,  tell  me  what  old  Jacob 
Snow-storm  told  you  about  the  otters;  I  like 
to  hear  stories  about  wild  beasts.  But  what 
a  droll  surname  Snow-storm  is!" 

"  Yes,  Mary  •  Indians  have  very  odd  names ;. 

0 


J£w. 


"i*.:,'..! 


;.,[■■  / 


r 


84 


THE  CAN..DIAN  FOREST. 


they  ar:}  called  ajfter  all  sorts  of  strange  things. 
They  do  not  name  the  children,  as  we  do,  soon 
after  they  are  born,  but  wait  for  some  remark- 
able circumstance,  some  dream  or  accident. 
Some  call  them  after  the  first  strange  animal 
or  bird  that  appears  to  the  new-born.  Old 
Snow-storm  most  likely  owed  his  name  to  a 
heavy  fall  of  snow  when  he  was  a  baby.  I 
knew  a  chief  named  Musk-rat,  and  a  pretty 
Indian  girl  who  was  named  '  Badau'-bun,'  or 
the  *  Light  of  the  Morning.' " 

"And  what  is  the  Indian  name  for  Old 
Snow-storm?" 

"  *  Be-che-go-ke-poor,'  my  dear."        ; 

Mary  said  it  was  a  funny  sounding  name, 
and  not  at  all  like  Snow-storm,  which  she  liked 
a  great  deal  better ;  and  she  was  much  amused 
whUe  her  nurse  repeated  to  her  some  names 
of  squaws  and  papooses,  (Indian  women  and 
children;)  such  as  Long  Thrush,  Little  Fox, 
Eunning  Stream,  Snow-bird,  Eed  Cloud,  Young 
Eagle,  Big  Bush,  and  many  others. 

"Now,  nurse,  will  you  teU  me  some  more 

about  Jacob  Snow-storm  and  the  otters?" 
8 


\--^^'k-r.-- 


j.?.>ty,i5?W5f jB%-.r''i'---',;  "yv.^i'.'; 


''^:.  V»jW 


M 


OLD  J>COB  SNOW-STOBM. 


85 


some  more 


"  Well,  Mary,  tlie  old  man  had  a  cap  of  otter- 
skin,  of  which  he  was  very  prond,  and  only 
wore  on  great  days.  One  day  as  he  was  play- 
ing with  it,  he  said: — 'Otter  fimny  fellow;  he 
like  play  too,  sometimes.  Indian  go  hunting 
up  Ottawa,  that  great  big  river,  you  know.  Go 
one  moonlight  night;  lie  down  under  bushes 
in  snow :  see  lot  of  little  fellow  and  big  fellow 
at  play.  Eun  up  and  down  bank;  bank  all 
ice.  Sit  down  top  of  bank;  good  slide  there. 
Down  he  go  splash  into  water;  out  again. 
Funny  fellow  those  I'  And  then  the  old  hunter 
threw  back  his  head,  and  laughed,  till  you  could 
have  seen  all  his  white  teeth,  he  opened  his 
mouth  so  wide." 

Mary  was  very  much  amused  at  the  comical 
way  in  which  the  old  Indian  talked. 

"  Can  otters  swim,  nurse  ?" 

"  Yes,  Mary ;  the  good  God,  who  has  created 
all  things  well,  has  given  to  this  animal  webbed 
ftdt,  which  enable  it  to  swim;  and  it  can  also 
dive  down  in  the  deep  water,  where  it  finds 
fish  and  mussels,  and  perhaps  the  roots  of  some 
water-plants  to  ^at.    It  makes  very  little  mo- 


:p 


"    *•■ 


■^Wu.-^ 


r 


■yh 


T^E  CANAPIAIj:    FOEEST. 


i 


:     i?' 


tion  or  disturbance  m  the  w^tejr  when  it  goes 
down  Jia  search  of  its  prey.  Its  coat  ifi  thick, 
a»d  formed  of  two  kinds  of  hair;  the  outer 
hair  is  long,  silky,  and  shining ;  the  under  pant 
is  short,  fine,  and  waren.  The  water  cannot 
penetrate  to  wet  them,— the  oily  nature  of  the 
ftir  throws  off  the  moisture.  They  dig  large 
holes  with  their  daws,  which  are  short,  but 
very  strong.  They  line  tboir  nests  with  dry 
grass  and  rushes  md  roots  gnawed  fine,  and 
do  not  pass  the  winter  in  sle^,  as  the  dormice, 
flying  squirrels,  raccoons,  and  bears  do.  They 
are  very  innocent  and  playful,  both  when  young 
and  even  after  they  grow  old.  The  lumberers 
often  tame  them,  and  they  become  so  docile 
that  they  will  come  at  a  call  or  whistle.  Like 
all  wild  animals,  they  are  most  lively  at  night, 
when  they  come  out  to  feed  and  play." 

"Dear  little  things  I  I  should  like  to  have 
a  tame  otter  to  play  with,  and  run  after  me; 
but  do  you  think  he  would  eat  my  squirrel? 
You  know  oats  will  eat  squirrels — so  mamms- 
says."  * 

"  Cate  belong  to  a  very  different  class  of  ani- 


1'v  ■';,-r^:i';::v;v;'  :  ?■ 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  THEIR  HABITS.        87 

mals ;  they  are  beasts  of  prev,  formed  to  spring 
and  bound,  and  tear  with  their  teeth  and  claws. 
The  otter  is  also  a  beast  of  prey,  but  its  prey 
is  found  in  the  still  waters,  and  not  on  the 
land;  it  can  neither  climb  nor  leap.  So  I  do 
not  think  he  would  hurt  your  squirrel,  if  you 
had  one." 

"See,  nurse,  my  dear  little  squirrel  is  still 
where  I  left  him,  clinging  to  the  wires  of  the 
cage,  his  bright  eyes  looking  like  two  black 
beads." 

"As  soon  as  it  grows  dark  he  will  begin 
to  be  more  lively,  and  perhaps  he  will  eat 
something,  but  not  while  we  look  at  him — he 
is  too  shy  for  that." 

"Nurse,  how  can  they  see  to  eat  in  the 
dark  ?" 

"The  good  God,  my  child,  has  so  formed 
their  eyes  that  they  can  see  best  by  night.  I 
will  read  you  a  few  verses  from  Psalm  civ. : — 


i  class  of  ani- 


"  Verse  19.  He  appointed  the  moon  for  seasons :  the 
sun  knoweth  his  gu  i.j  down. 

20.  Thou  makest  darkness,  and  it  is  night :  whereia 
all  the  beasts  of  the  forest  do  ereep  forth. 


■^r 


•  .   -X'i^ 


88 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


iit.- 


SI.  The  young  lions  roar  after  their  prey,  and  seek 
their  meat  from  God. 

22.  The  sun  ariseth,  they  gather  themselves  together, 
and  lay  them  down  in  their  dens. 

23.  Man  goeth  forth  unto  his  work  and  to  his  lahour 
until  the  evening. 

24.  0  Lord,  how  manifold  are  thy  works !  in  wisdom 
hast  thou  made  them  all :  the  earth  is  full  of  thy  riches. 

"Thus  you  see,  my  dear  child,  that  our 
heavenly  Father  taketh  care  of  all  his  crea- 
tures, and  provideth  for  them  both  by  day 
and  by  night." 

"I  remember,  nurse,  that  my  dormice  used 
to  lie  quite  still,  nestled  among  the  moss  and 
wool  in  their  little  dark  chamber  in  the  cage, 
all  day  long ;  but  when  it  was  night  they  used 
to  come  out  and  frisk  about,  and  run  along 
the  wires,  and  play  all  sorte  of  tricks,  chasing 
one  another  round  and  round,  and  they  were 
not  afraid  of  me,  but  would  let  me  look  at 
them  while  they  ate  a  nut,  or  a  bit  of  sugar; 
and  the  dear  little  things  would  drink  out  of 
their  little  white  saucer,  and  wash  their  faces 
and  tails — ^it  was  so  pretty  to  see  them  1" 

"Did  you  notice,  Mary,  how  the  dorinice 
held  their  food?" 


/'"'"::  H''        J^'.-'^lf.'i', 


<rtl^^ 


,1l^ 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  THIIR  HABITS.        39 

• 

"  Yes,  they  sat  up,  and  held  it  in  their  fore- 
paws,  which  looked  just  like  tiny  hands." 

"There  are  many  animals  whose  fore-feet 
resemble  hands,  and  these,  generally,  convey 
their  food  to  their  mouths — among  these  are 
the  squirrel  and  dormice.  They  are  good 
climbers  and  diggers.  You  see,  my  dear  Mary, 
how  the  merciM  Creator  has  given  to  all  his 
creatures,  however  lowly,  the  best  means  of 
supplying  their  wants,  whether  of  food  or 
i  shelter." 

"  Indeed,  nurse,  1  have  learned  a  great  deal 
I  about  squirrels,  Canadian  rice,  otters,  and  In- 
dians; but,  if  you  please,  I  must  now  have  a 
[little  play  with  my  doU.  Good-bye,  Mrs.  Fra- 
zer, — ^pray  take  care  of  my  dear  Httle  squirrel, 
(and  mind  that  he  does  not  fly  away."    And 

little  Mary  w&j  soon  busily  engaged  in  draw- 
ing her  wax  doll  about  the  nursery  in  a  little 

gleigh  lined  with  red  squirrel  fur  robes,  and 
liking  to  her  as  all  children  lil||  to  talk  to 

their  dolls,  whether  they  be  rich  or  poor — ^the 

[children  of  peasants,  or  governors*  daughters. 


'Hi 


.!, -:  .'vjtrtii'-.'jJliaj/tSi 


M'  4k>-V*. 


.,.T„f. 


;■'  ■;,;-■--  v.  TVTi- ,  ■      ■     'iff'' 


40 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


CHAPTER    III. 

LITTLE    MARY   READS    TO    MRS.    FRAZER    THE    FIRST    PART 
OF   THE   HISTORY   OF   THE    SQUIRREL   FAMILY. 


* 


/^NE  day  little  M<iry  came  to  her  i^urse, 
^^^  and  putting  her  arms  about  her  neck, 
whispered  to  her, — "Mrs.  Frazer,  my  dear  good 
governess  has  given  me  something — ^it  is  in 
my  hand,"  and  she  slily  held  her  hand  behind 
her — "will  you  guess  what  it  is?" 
'  "  Is  it  a  book,  my  dear  ?"  * 

"Yes,  yes,  it  is  a  book,  a  pretty  book;  and 
see,  here  are  pictures  of  squirrels  in  it.  Mrs. 
Frazer,  if  you  like,  I  will  sit  down  on  this 
cushion  by  you  and  read  some  of  my  new 
book.    It  does  not  seem  very  hard." 

Then  Mrs.  Frazer  took  out  her  work-basket 
and  sat  down  to  sew,  and  Mary  began  to  read 
the  little  story,  which,  I  hope,  may  entertain 
my  httle  readers  as  much  as  it  did  h^. 


"■'»'-- i'TT'Sf""  ^r:: 


-^,,,...-„^„..     .„„,^,•, 


>  r  i 


I  . 


HISTOBY  OF  A  SQUIBBBL  FAMILT.         41 


Wit  fntttxu  fit  »SpmI  imWUf 


It  must  be  a  pleasant  thing  to  be  a  squirrel, 

and  live  a  life  of  freedom  in  the  boundless 

forests;  tc  leap  and  bound  among  the  branches 

of  the  tall  trees ;  to  gambol  in  the  deep  shade 

of  the  cool  glossy  leaves,  through  the  long 

warm  summer  day;  to  gather  the  fresh  nuts 

and  berries;  to  drink  the  pure  dews  of  heaven, 

all    bright  and    sparkling   from  the  opening 

[flowers;  to  sleep  on  soft  beds  of  moss  and 

thistle-down   in   some   hoUow  branch  rocked 

)y  the  wind  as  in  a  cradle.    Yet,  though  this 

ras  the  happy  life  led  by  a  family  of  pretty 

rey  squirrels,  that  had  their  dwelling  in  the 

loary  branch  of  an  old  oak-tree  that  grew  on 

)ne  of  the  rocky  islands  in  a  beautiftd  lake  in 

Fpper  Canada,  called  Stony  Lake^  (because  it 

ras  full  of  rocky  islands,)  these  little  creatures 
4* 


il 


I  ^ 


I  ' 


42 


THE  OANADIAN  FOREST. 


were  far  from  being  contented,  and  were  always 
wishing  for  a  change.  Indeed,  they  had  been 
very  happy,  till  one  day  when  a  great  black 
squirrel  swam  to  the  island  and  paid  them  a 
visit.  He  was  a  very  fine  handsome  fellow^ 
nearly  twice  as  large  as  any  of  the  grey 
squirrels;  he  had  a  tail  that  flourished  over 
his  back,  when  he  set  it  up,  hke  a  great  black 
feather;  his  claws  were  sharp  and  strong,  and 
his  eyes  very  round  and  bright;  he  had  up- 
right ears,  and  long,  sharp  teeth^  of  which  he 
made  good  use.  The  old  grey  squirrels  called 
him  cousin,  and  invited  him  to  dinner.  They 
very  civilly  set  before  him  some  acorns  and 
beech-nuts;  but  he  proved  a  hungry  visitor^ 
and  ate  as  much  as  would  have  fed  the  whole 
family  for  a  week.  After  the  grey  squirrels 
had  cleared  away  the  shells  and  scraps,  they 
asked  their  greedy  guest  where  he  came  from, 
when  Blackie  told  them  he  was  a  great  trav- 
eller, and  had  seen  many  wonderful  things: 
that  he  had  once  lived  on  a  forked  pine  at 
the  head  of  the  Waterfall,  but  being  tired  of 
a  dull  life,  lie  had  gone  out  on  his  travels  to 


-■■»? 
"f"^ 


-■---«^.'.iiT*i(n'- f  r^T-.jSwd',* 


HISTORY  OF  A  SQUIRREL  FAMILY.        48 

sec  the  world;  that  he  had  been  down  the 
lake,  and  along  the  river  shore,  where  there 
were  great  places  cut  out  in  the  thick  forest, 
called  clearings,  where  some  very  tall  crea- 
tures lived,  who  were  called  men  and  women, 
with  young  ones  called  children;  that  though 
they  were  not  so  pretty  as  squirrels — ^for  they 
had  no  fur  on  them,  and  were  obliged  to  make 
clothes  to  cover  them  and  keep  them  warm — ■ 
they  were  very  useful,  and  sowed  corn  and 
planted  fruit-trees  and  roots  for  squirrels  to 
jeat,  and  even  built  large  grain  stores  to  keep 
[it  safe  ami  dry  for  them. 

This  seemed  very  strange,  and  the  simple 

[little  grey  squirrels  were  very  much   pleased, 

and  said  they  should  like  very  much  to  go 

jdown  thtj  lakes  too,  and  see  these  wonderful 

things. 

The  black  squirrel  then  told  them  that  there 
rere  many  things  to  be  seen  in  these  clear- 
ings :  that  there  were  large  beasts,  called  oxen, 
md  cows,  and  sheep,  and  pigs ;  and  these  crea- 
tures had  houses  built  for  them  to  live  in;  and 
nil  the   men  and   women   seemed  to  employ 


:i:':S 


•>  y.'  V 


■■^m 


^^^^ 


'■mi 


-..j&lLl^H'jUifa.    ';'^'         A^- 


^m: 


44 


THE  CANADIAN  FOBEST. 


themselves  about  was  feeding  and  taking  care 
of  them. 

Now  this  cunning  fellow  never  told  his 
simple  cousins  that  the  oxen  had  to  bear  a 
heavy  wooden  yoke  and  chain,  and  were  made 
to  work  very  hard;  nor  that  the  cows  were 
fed  that  they  might  give  milk  to  the  children ; 
nor  that  the  pigs,  were  fatted  to  make  pork; 
nor  that  the  sheep  had  their  warm  fleeces  cut 
off  every  year  that  the  settlers  might  have 
the  wool  to  spin  and  weave.  Blackie  did  not 
say  that  the  men  carried  guns,  and  the  dogs 
were  fierce,  and  would  hunt  poor  squirrels 
from  tree  to  tree,  frightening  them  almost  to 
death  with  their  loud,  angry  barking;  that 
cats  haunted  the  barns  and  houses,  and,  in 
short,  that  there  were  dangers  as  well  as  pleas- 
Tires  to  be  met  with  in  these  clearings;  and 
that  the  barns  were  built  to  shelter  the  grain 
for  men,  and  not  for  the  benefit  of  squirrels. 

The  black  squirrel  proved  rather  a  trouble- 
some guest,  for  he  stayed  several  days,  and 
ate  so  heartily,  that  the  old  grey  squirrels 
were  obliged  to  hint  that  he  had  better  go 


aking  care 


'   told   his 
to  bear  a 
were  made 
cows  were 
B  children ; 
lake  pork; 
fleeces  cut 
light  have 
de  did  not 
i  the  dogs 
ir  squirrels 
L  almost  to 
king ;   that 
3S,  and,  in 
11  as  pleas- 
rings  ;   and 
:  the  grain 
squirrels, 
a  trouble- 
days,  and 
y  squirrels 
better  go 


THE    GIIEV    SQITIUIIEL    AND    CIllTMUNKS.     I'a-o  4;*. 


HISTORY  OP  A  SQUIRREL  FAMILY.         45 


II' 


back  to  the  clearings,  where  there  was  so  much 
food,  for  that  their  store  was  nearly  done.  .     ,,  „,. 

When  Blackie  found  that  all  the  nice  nuta 
were  eaten,  and  that  even  pine-kernels  and 
beech-nuts  were  becoming  scarce,  he  went  away, 
saying  that  he  should  soon  come  again. 

The  old  grey  squirrels  were  glad  when  they;^ 
saw  the  tip  of  Blackie's  tail  disappear,  as  he 
whisked  down  the  trunk  of  the  old  oak;  but 
their  young  ones  were  very  sorry  that  he  was 
gone,  for  they  liked  very  much  to  listen  to  all 
his  wonderful  stories,  which  they  thought  were 
true;  and  they  told  their  father  and  mother 
how  they  wished  they  would  leave  the  dull, 
island  and  the  old  tree,  and  go  down  the  lakes, 
and  see  the  wonderful  things  that  their  black  ^ 
cousin  had  described.  *  •    -^.^'^^r 

But  the  old  ones  shook  their  heads,  and  said 
I  they  feared  there  was  more  fiction  than  truth;  , 
in  the  tales  they  had  heard,  and  that  if  they. 
were  wise  they  would  stay  where  they  were. 
"What  do  you  want  more,  my  dear  children,'-'    , 
[said    their    mother,    "than    you    enjoy  here? 
[Have  you  not  this  grand  old  oak  for  a  palace  yj 


"  """^^ 


%v:--- 


B 


.■*^ 


;?i<'™s;-y*?!' 


"'7i%i 


»*■ 


/^' 


-'; 


46 


THE  OANADIAN  FOREST, 


^^*":< 


■■i^' 


to  live  ii;  its  leaves  and  branches  spreading 
like  a  ca'.opy  over  your  heads,  to  shelter  you 
from  the  hot  sun  by  day  and  the  dews  by 
night?  Are  there  not  moss,  dried  grass,  and 
roots  beneath,  to  make  a  soft  bed  for  yon  to 
lie  upon?  and  do  not  the  boughs  drop  down 
*a  plentiM  store  of  brown,  ripe  acorns?  That 
silver  lake,  studded  with  islands  of  all  shapes 
and  sizes,  produces  cool,  clear  water  for  you 
to  drink  and  bathe  yourselves  in.  Look  at 
those -flowero  that  droop  their  blossoms  down 
to  its  glassy  surface,  and  the  white  lilies  that 
rest  upon  its  bosom, — ^will  you  see  any  thing 
fairer  or  better,  if  you  leave  this  place  ?  Stay 
at  home,  and  be  contented." 

"  If  I  hear  any  more  grumbling,"  said  their 
father,  "I  shall  pinch  your  ears  and  tails.''' 
So  the  little  squirrels  said  no  more,  but  I  am 
sorry  to  say  they  did  not  pay  much  heed  to 
their  wise  old  mother's  counsels ;  for  whenever 
they  were  alone,  all  their  talk  was  how  to  run 
away,  and  go  abroad  to  see  the  world,  as  their 
black  cousin  had  called  the  new  settlement 
down  the  lakes.    It  never  came  into  the  heads 


■■#^'S*?ft 


mSTOBY  OF  A  BQUIREKL  TA.1SJLY, 


47 


of  the  silly  creatures  that  those  wonderM  sto«  : 
rieb  they  had  been  told  origmated  in  an  artfui 
pcheme  of  the  greedy  black  squirrel,  to  induce 
them  to  leave  their  warm  pleasant  house  in  the 
oak,  that  he  and  his  children  might  come  and 
live  in  it,  and  get  the  hoards  of  grain,  and  nuts, 
and  acorns,  that  their  father  and  mother  had,, 
been  laying  up  for  winter  stores.  .  .^ 

Moreover,  the  wily  black  squirrel  had  pri- 
vately told  them  that  their  father  and  mother 
intecde '  to  turn  them  out  of  the  nest  very^ 
soon,  r  nake  provision  for  a  new  family." 
This  indeed  was  really  the  case;  for  as  soon  as 
young  animals  can  provide  for  themselves,  their 
[parents  turn  them  off,  and  care  no  more  for 
them.  Very  different,  indeed,  is  this  from  our. 
[parents;  for  they  love  and  cherish  us  as  long  as 
they  live,  and  afford  us  a  home  and  shelter  as 
long  as  we  need  it. 

Every  hour  these  little  grey  squirrels  grew 
lore  and  more  impatient  to  leave  the  lonely. 
[ittle  rocky  island,  though  it  was  a  pretty  spot, 
md  the  place  of  their  birth;  but  they  were 
low  eager  to  go  abroad  and  seek  their  fortunes. , 


%^iksL!biik^£''.-..-^^:w4i''^Sii*':^'y'.\iSL: 


48       ''^M'   THE  CANADIAN  FOREST,  i', 


U 


..'^ 


Mi 


"Let  ua  keep  our  own  counsel,"  said  Nimble- 
foot  to  his  sisters  Velvet-paw  and  Silver-nose, 
"or  we  may  chance  to  get  our  tails  pulled; 
but  be  all  ready  for  a  start  by  early  dawn  to- 
morrow." .•  j.  ^  ,,..  .  ,„K; 
Velvet-paw  and  Silver-nose  said  they  would 
^  be  up  before  sunrise,  as  they  should  have  a 
long  voyage  down  the  lake,  and  agreed  to  rest 
on  Pine  Island  near  the  opening  of  Clear  Lake. 
"And  then  take  to  Jhe  shore  and  travel  through 
the  woods,  where,  no  doubt,  we  shall  have  a 
pleasant  time,"  said  Nimble-foot,  who  was  the 
most  hopeful  of  the  party. 

•The  sun  was  scarcely  yet  risen  over  the 
fringe  of  dark  pines  that  skirted  the  shores  of 
the  Ifike,  and  a  soft  creamy  mist  hung  on  the 
surface  of  the  still  waters,  which  were  unruffled 
by  the  slightest  breeze.  The  little  grey  squir- 
rels awoke,  and  looked  sleepily  out  from  the 
leafy  screen  that  shaded  their  mossy  nest.  The 
early  notes  of  the  wood-thrush  and  song' 
sparrow,  with  the  tender  warbling  of  the  tinj 
wren,  sounded  sweetly  in  the  still  dewy  morn- 
ing air:  while  from  a  cedar  swamp  was  heard 


HISTORY  OP  A  SQUIRREL  FAMILY.         40 

the  trill  of  the  green  frogs,  which  the  squirrels 
thought  very  pretty  music.  As  the  sun  rose 
above  the  tops  of  the  trees,  the  mist  rolled  off 
in  light  fleecy  clouds,  and  soon  was  lost  in  the 
blue  sky,  or  lay  in  large  bright  drops  on  the 
cool  grass  and  shining  leaves.  Then  all  the 
birds  awoke,  and  the  insects  shook  their  gauzy 
wings,  which  had  b'^en  folded  all  the  night  in 
the  flower-cups,  and  the  flowers  began  to  lift 
their  heads,  and  the  leaves  to  expand  to  catch 
the  golden  light.  There  was  a  murmur  on  the 
water  as  it  played  among  the  sedges^  and  lifted 
the  broad  floating  leaves  of  the  white  water- 
lilies,  with  their  carved  ivory  cups ;  and  the 
great  green,  brown,  and  blue  dragon-flies  rose 
with  a  whirring  sound,  and  darted  to  and  fro 
among  the  water  flowers. 

It  is  a  glorious  sight  to  see  the  sun  rise  at 
any  time,  for  then  we  can  look  upon  him  with- 
out having  our  eyes  dazzled  with  the  bright- 
ness of  his  beams;  and  though  there  were  no 
men  and  women  and  little  children,  in  the 
lonely  waters  and  woods,  to  lift  up  their  hands 
and  voices  in  prayer  and  praise  to  God,  who 


^■t 


60 


THE  CANADIAN  FOBEST 


makes  tlie  sun  to  rise  each  day,  yet  no  dou'"»^« 
the  great  Creator  is  pleased  to  see  his  creatur\M5 
rejoio'    a  the  blessings  of  light  and  heat. 

Lig.iUy  running  dovm  the  rugged  bark  of 
the  old  oak-tree,  the  little  squirrels  bade  fare- 
well to  their  island  home — to  the  rocks,  mosses, 
ferns,  and  flowers  that  had  sheltered  them, 
among  which  they  had  so  often  chased  each 
ether  in  merry  gambols.  They  thought  little 
of  all  this,  when  they  launched  themselves  on 
the  silver  bosom  of  the  cool  lake. 

"How  easy  it  is  to  swim  in  this  clear  water  I '' 
said  Silver-nose  to  her  sister  Yel vet-paw.  "We 
shall  not  be  long  in  reaching  yonder  island, 
and  there,  no  doubt,  we  shall  get  a  good 
breakfast." 

So  the  little  swimmers  proceeded  on  their 
voyago,  furrowing  the  calm  waters  as  they 
glided  noiselessly  along;  their  soft  grey  heads 
and  ears  and  round  black  eyes  only  being  seen, 
and  the  bright  streaks  caused  by  the  motion  of 
their  tails,  which  lay  flat  on  the  surface,  look- 
ing like  silver  threads  gently  floating  on  the 
stream. 


m: 


,..-  ..^_. 


HISTORY  OP  A  SQUIRREL  FAMILY.        51 


<:>•. 


Not  being  mucli  used  to  the  fatigue  of  swim- 
ming, the  little  squirrels  were  soon  tired,  and  if 
it  had  lot  been  for  a  friendly  bit  of  stick  that 
happened  to  float  nfear  her,  poor  Velvet-paw 
would  have  been  drowned;  however,  she  got 
up  on  the  stick,  and  setting  up  her  fine  broad 
tail,  went  merrily  on,  and  soon  passed  Nimble- 
foot  and  Silver-nose.  The  current  drew  the 
stick  towards  the  Pine  Island  that  lay  at  the 
entrance  of  Clear  Lake,  and  Velvet-paw  leaped 
ashore,  and  sat  down  on  a  mossy  stone  to  dry 
her  fur,  and  watch  for  her  brother  and  sister : 
they,  too,  found  a  large  piece  of  birch -bark 
which  the  winds  had  blown  into  the  water,  and 
as  a  little  breeze  had  sprung  up  to  waft  them 
along,  they  were  not  very  long  before  they 
landed  on  the  island.  They  were  all  very  glad 
when  they  met  again,  after  the  perils  and 
fatigues  of  the  voyage.  The  first  thing  to  be 
done  was  to  look  for  something  to  eat,  for  their 
early  rising  had  made  them  very  hungry. 
They  found  abundance  of  pine-cones  strewn  on 
the  ground,  but,  alas  for  our  little  squirrels! 
very  few  kernels  in  them;  for  the  crossbills 


r  I 


i 


I 


11  >-'^'' 


t  ' 


!.' 


k^r-- 


1  \i 


V 


52 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


and  chiccadees  had  been  at  work  for  many 
weeks  on  the  trees ;  and  also  many  families  of 
their  poor  relations,  the  chitmunks  or  ground 
squirrels,  had  lot  been  idle,  as  our  little 
voyagers  could  eiisily  g.  ess  by  the  chips  and 
empty  cones  round  their  holes.  So,  weary  as 
they  were,  they  were  obliged  to  run  up  the  tall 
pine  and  hemlock  trees,  to  search  among  the 
cones  that  grew  on  their  very  top  branches. 
While  our  squirrels  were  busy  with  the  few 
kernels  they  chanced  to  find,  they  were  startled 
from  their  repast  by  the  screams  of  a  largi 
slate-coloured  hawk,  and  Velvet-paw  very  nar- 
rowly escaped  being  pounced  upon  and  carried 
off  in  its  sharp-hooked  talons.  Silver-nose  at 
the  same  time  was  nearly  frightened  to  death 
by  the  keen  round  eyes  of  a  cunning  raccoon, 
which  had  come  within  a  few  feet  of  the  mossy 
branch  of  an  old  cedar,  where  she  sat  picking 
tli3  seeds  out  of  a  dry  head  of  a  blue  flag-flower 
she  had  found  on  the  shore.  Silvy,  at  thig 
sight,  gave  a  spring  that  left  her  many  yards 
beyond  her  sharp-sighted  enemy. 

A  lively  note  of  joy  was  uttered  by  Nimble- 


'C 


HISTORY  or  A  SQUIRREL  FAMILY.        58 

foot,  for,  perched  at  liis  ease  on  a  top  branch  of 
the  hemlock^tree,  he  had  seen  the  bound  made 
by  Silver'nose.  '    . 

"  Well  jumped,  Silvy,"  said  he ;  "  Mister 
Coon  must  be  a  smart  fellow  to  equal  that.  But 
look  sharp,  or  you  will  get  your  neck  wrung 
yet ;  I  see  we  must  keep  a  good  look-out  in  this 
strange  country." 

"I  begin  to  wish  we  were  safe  back  again 
in  our  old  one,"  whined  Selvy,  who  was  much 
frightened  by  the  danger  she  had  just  escaped. 

"  Pooh,  pooh,  child ;  don't  be  a  coward,"  said 
Nimble,  laughing. 

"Cousin  Blackie  never  told  us  there  were 
hawks  and  coons  on  this  island,"  said  Yel vet- 
paw. 

"My  dear,  he  thought  we  were  too  brave 
to  be  afraid  of  hawks  and  coons,"  said  Nimble. 
"  For  my  part,  I  think  it  is  a  fine  thing  to  go 
out  a  little  into  the  world.  We  should  never 
see  any  thing  better  than  the  sky  and  the  water, 
and  the  old  oak-tree  on  that  little  island." 

"  Ay,  but  I  think  it  is  safer  to  see  than  to  be 

seen,"  said  Silvy,  "  for  hawks  and  eagles  have 
5* 


v^%^---~-.y^j^" 


'■'  ;^ll^/ 


I'; 


1 


I 


\ 


54 


THE  CAKADIAN  FOREST. 


Strong  beaks,  and  raccoons  sharp  claws  and  hun- 
gry-looking teeth ;  and  it  is  not  very  pleasant, 
Nimble,  to  be  obliged  to  look  out  for  such  wick- 
ed creatures." 

"  Oh,  true  indeed,"  said  Nimble ;  "  if  it  had 
not  been  for  that  famous  jump  you  made,  Silvy, 
and  Velvet,  your  two  admirers,  the  hawk  and 
raccoon,  would  have  hid  all  your  beauties  from 
the  world  and  put  a  stop  to  your  travels." 

"It  is  very  well  for  brother  Nimble  to  make 
light  of  our  dangers,"  whispered  Velvet*paw, 
"  but  let  us  see  how  he  will  jump  if  a  big  eagle 
were  to  pounce  down  to  carry  him  off." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Silvy ;  "  it  is  easy  to  brag 
before  one  is  in  danger." 

The  squirrels  thought  they  would  now  go  and 
look  for  some  partridge-berries,  of  which  they 
were  very  fond,  for  the  pine-kernels  were  but 
dry  husky  food  after  all. 

There  were  plenty  of  the  pretty  white  star- 
shaped  blossoms,  growing  all  over  the  ground 
under  the  pine-trees,  but  the  bright  scarlet  twin- 
berries  were  not  yet  ripe.  In  winter  the  par- 
tridges eat  this  iruit  from  under  the  snow ;  and 


I  I 


HISTORY  or  A  BQUIKREL  FAMILY.        56 


it  fumislies  food  for  many  little  animals  as  well 
aa  birds.  The  leaves  are  small,  of  a  dark  green, 
and  the  white  flowers  have  a  very  fine  fragrant 
scent.  Though  the  runaways  found  none  of 
these  berries  fit  to  eat,  they  saw  some  ripe  straw- 
berries among  the  bushes ;  and,  having  satisfied 
their  hunger,  began  to  grow  very  merry,  and 
whisked  here  and  there  and  everywhere,  peep- 
ing into  this  hole  and  under  that  stone.  Some- 
times they  had  a  good  game  of  play,  chasmg  one 
another  up  and  down  the  trees,  chattering  and 
squeaking  as  grey  squirrels  only  can  chatter  and 
squeak,  when  they  are  gambolling  about  in  the 
wild  woods  of  Canada. 

Indeed,  they  made  such  a  noise,  that  the  great 
ugly  black  snakes  lifted  up  their  heads,  and 
stared  at  them  with  their  wicked  spiteful-look- 
ing p-^es,  and  the  httle  ducklings  swimming 
among  the  water-lilies,  gathered  round  their 
mother,  and  a  red-winged  blackbird  perched  on 
a  dead  tree,  gave  alarm  to  the  rest  of  the  flock 
by  calling  out,  Geck^  geck^  geek,  as  loudly  as  he 
could.  In  the  midst  of  all  their  frolics,  IS  imble 
skipped  into  a  hollow  log — ^but  was  glad  to  run 


# 


l5- 


50 


THE  OANADIAK  FOREST. 


n 


i' 


out  again ;  for  a  porcupine  covered  with  sharp 
spines  was  there,  and  waa  so  angry  at  being 
diBturbed,  that  he  stuck  one  of  his  spines  into 
poor  Nimble-foot's  soft  velvet  nose,  and  there 
it  would  have  remained  if  Silvy  had  not  seized 
it  with  her  teeth  and  pulled  it  out.  Nimble- 
foot  sqiTeaked  sadly,  and  would  not  play  any 
longer,  but  rolled  himself  up  and  went  to  sleep 
in  a  red-headed  woodpecker's  old  nest;  while 
Silvy  and  Velvet-paw  frisked  about  in  the  moon- 
light, and  when  tired  of  play  got  up  into  an 
old  oak  which  had  a  large  hollow  place  in  the 
crown  of  it,  and  fell  asleep,  fancying,  no  doubt, 
that  they  were  on  the  rocky  island  in  Stony 
Lake ;  and  so  we  will  bid  them  good  night,  and 
wish  them  pleasant  dreams. 


Little  Mary  had  read  a  long  while,  and  was 
now  tired;  so  she  kissed  her  nurse,  and  said, 
"  Now,  Mrs.  Frazer,  I  will  play  with  my  doll, 
and  feed  my  squirrel  and  my  dormice." 

The  dormice  were  two  soft,  brown  creatures, 
almost  as  pretty  and  as  innocent  as  the  squirrel, 


■'•'i^'ia 'k'  -.  ^v:_v\,-':u,^.., 


:,  .■^„, 


^-' 


1  I 


HISTORT  OF  A  SQUIRREL  FAMILY.         57 

and  a  great  deal  tamer ;  and  they  were  called 
Jeannette  and  Jeannot,  and  would  come  when 
they  were  called  by  their  names,  and  take  a  bit 
of  cake  or  a  lump  of  sugar  out  of  the  fingers 
of  their  little  mistress.  Little  Mary  had  two 
canaries,  Dick  and  Pet ;  and  she  loved  her  dor- 
mice and  birds,  and  her  new  pet  the  flying 
squirrel,  very  much,  and  never  let  them  want 
for  food,  or  water,  or  any  nice  thing  she  could 
get  for  them.  She  liked  the  history  of  the 
grey  squirrels  very  much ;  and  was  quite  eager 
to  get  her  book  the  next  afternoon,  to  read  the 
second  part  of  the  adventures  and  wanderings 
of  the  fiunily. 


•V 


.  % 


H*^^     "T 


<u.   ^»Ai^ 


% 


sa 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


CHAPTBH    III. 

WHICH  TELLS  HOW  THE  GREY  SQUIRRELS  GET  ON  WHILE 

THEY   REMAINED    ON    PINE     ISLAND HOW    THEY   BE- 

HAYED   TO  THEIR   POOR   RELATIONS,  THE   CHITMUNKS, 
AND  WHAT  HAPPENED  TO  THEM  IN  THE  TOREST. 


'f 


TT  was  noon  when  the  little  squirrels  awoke, 
and,  of  course,  they  were  quite  ready  for 
their  breakfast;  but  there  was  no  good,  kind 
old  mother  to  provide  for  their  wants,  and  to 
bring  nuts,  acorns,  roots,  or  fruit  for  them ;  they 
must  now  get  up,  go  forth,  and  seek  food  for 
themselves.  When  Velvet-paw  and  Silver-nose 
went  to  call  Nimble-foot,  they  were  surprised  to 
find  his  nest  empty ;  but  after  searchmg  a  long 
while,  they  found  him  sitting  on  the  root  of  an 
upturned  tree,  looking  at  a  family  of  little  chit- 
munks  busily  picking  over  the  pine-cones  on 
the  ground;  but  as  soon  as  one  of  the  poor 
little  fellows,  with  great  labour,  had  dug  out 
a  kernel,  and  was  preparing  to  eat  it,  down 


"  ■.  T.7^"t7  ■'  ■»■»■>,■■"■  -^  • 


.   ,-^ 


HISTORY  OF  A  SQUIRREL  FAMILY.         69 

leaped  Nimble-foot,  and  carried  off  the  prize; 
and  if  one  of  the  little  chitmunks  ventured  to 
saj  a  word,  he  very  uncivilly  gave  him  a 
scratch,  or  bit  his  ears,  calling  him  a  mean 
shabby  fellow. 

Now,  the  chitmunks  were  really  very  pretty. 
They  were,  to  be  sure  not  more  than  half  the 
size  of  the  grey  squirrels,*  and  their  fur  was 
short,  without  the  soft,  thick,  glossy  look  upon 
it  of  the  grey  squirrels'.  They  were  of  a  lively 
tawny  yellow-brown  colour,  with  long  black 
and  white  stripes  down  their  backs ;  their  tails 
were  not  so  long  nor  so  thickly  furred;  and 
instead  of  living  in  the  trees,  they  made  their 
nests  in  logs  and  wind-falls,  and  had  their 
granaries,  and  winter  houses  too,  under  ground, 
where  they  made  warm  nests  of  dried  moss  and 
grass  and  thistledown ;  to  these  they  had  several 
entrances,  so  that  they  had  always  a  chance  of 
refuge  if  danger  were  nigh.    Like  the  dormice, 


*  It  is  not  quite  certain  that  the  chitmunk  is  a  true 
squirrel,  and  he  is  sometimes  called  a  striped  rat.  This 
pretty  animal  seems,  indeed,  to  form  a  link  between  the  rat 
and  squirrel.  « 


,^Wm^i^. 


•^'.C.JtaNR?**'*^ 


«0 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


flying  squirrels,  and  ground  hogs,  they  slept 
soundly  during  the  cold  weather,  only  awaken- 
ing when  the  warm  spring  sun  had  melted  the 
snow.  V 

The  vain  little  grey  squirrels  thought  them- 
selves *much  better  than  these  little  chitmunks, 
whom  they  treated  with  very  little  politeness, 
laughing  at  them  for  living  in  holes  in  the 
ground,  instead  of  upon  lofty  trees,  as  they  did ; 
they  even  called  them  low-bred  fellows,  and 
wondered  why  they  did  not  imitate  their  high 
breeding  and  behaviour. 

The  chitmunks  took  very  little  notice  of 
their  rudeness,  but  merely  said  that,  if  being 
high-bred  made  people  rude,  they  would  rather 
remain  humble  as  they  were. 

"As  we  are  the  head  of  all  the  squirrel 
families,"  said  Silver-nose,  "we  shall  do  you 
the  honour  of  breakfasting  with  you  to-day." 

"We  breakfasted  hours  ago,  while  you  lazy 
fellows  were  fast  asleep,"  replied  an  old  chit- 
munk,  poking  his  little  nose  out  of  a  hole  in 
the  ground. 

"Then  we  shall  dine  with  you:   so  make 


i-i.fi'l^ 


mSTOHY 


A  SQtnftHiiL  J-iMtiY.        6l 


.n,...-* 


haste  and  get  SOtnething  gobd  for  us,"  said 
Nimble-foot.  "I  have  no  doubt  you  have 
plenty  of  butter  and  hickory  nuts  laid  up  in 
your  holes."      '^^'   -^'''-^'^  ■-■  ■'■■:■-  ^  ■^^^:--r.'..^|gfct;; 

The  old  chitmunk  told  him  he  might  come 
and  get  them,  if  he  could.     .  -'     •  ^      -t-'-J 

At  this  the  grey  squirrels  skipped  down  < 
from  the  branches,  and  began  to  run  hither  and 
thither,  and  to  scratch  among  the  moss  and 
leaves,  to  find  the  entrance  to  the  chitmunks' 
grata  stores.  They  peeped  under  the  old  twist- 
ed roots  of  the  pii^es  and  cedars,  into  every 
chink  and  cranny,  but  no  sign  of  a  granary  was 
to  be  seen.  ,      .  # 

Then  the  chitmunks  said,  "  My  dear  friends,  ^ 
this  is  a  bad  season  to  visit  us ;  we  are  very 
poor  just  now,  finding  it  difficult  to  get  a  few 
dry  pine-kernels  and  berries,  but  if  you  will 
come  and  see  us  after  harvest,  we  shall  have  a 
store  of  nuts  and  acorns.  ■>  ■ 

*'  Pretty  fellows  you  are !"  replied  Nimble, 
"  to  put  us  off  with  promises,  when  we  are  so 
hungry;  we  might  starve  between  this  and 
harvest."-  '''  '    -■■■':■      ''-"      '    ■."-'i-V'^-     . 


•»4-': 


M 


..^:#v^ 


■^ 


82 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


II 


t  ii 


•!?■ 


"  If  you  leav^i  this  island,  and  go  down  the 
lake,  you  will  coaie  to  a  mill,  where  the  red 
squirrels  live,  md.  where  you  will  have  fine 
times,"  said  one  of  the  chitmunks. 

"Which  is  the  nearest  way  to  the  mill?" 
asked  Velvet-paw. 

"Swim  to  the  shore,  and  keep  the  Indian 
path,  and  you  will  soon  see  it." 

But  while  the  grey  squirrels  were  looking  out 
for  whe  path,  the  cunning  chitmunks  whisked 
away  into  their  holes,  and  left  the  inquirers  in 
the  lurch,  who  could  not  tell  what  had  become 
of  them ;  for  though  they  did  find  a  round  hole 
that  they  thought  might  be  one  of  their  bur- 
rows, it  was  so  narrow  that  they  could  only 
poke  in  their  noses,  but  could  get  no  ftirther ; 
the  grey  squirrels  being  much  fatter  and  big- 
ger than  the  slim  little  chitmunks. 

"  After  all,"  said  Silvy,  who  was  the  best  of 
the  three,  "perhaps,  if  we  had  been  civil,  the 
chitmunks  would  heve  treated  us  better." 

"  Well,"  said  Nimble,  "  if  they  had  been  good 
fellows,  they  would  have  invited  us,  as  our 
mother  did  cousin  Blackie,  and  have  set  before 


# 


•^ 


-im 


■'l-SW'-'*- ■■      ''jjp^pt^' 


,i-.!rfy.^»;;-;;^.5.n-.- 


HISTORY  or  A  SQUIRRBL  rAMILY.         63 


US  tlie  best  they  had.  I  could  find  it  in  my 
heart  to  dig  them  out  of  their  holes,  and 
give  them  a  good  bite."  This  was  all  brag  on 
Kimble's  part,  who  was  not  near  so  brave  as 
he  wished  Silvy  and  Velvet-paw  to  suppose  he 
was.  » 

After  spending  some  time  in  hunting  for 
acorns,  they  made  up  their  minds  to  leave  the 
island ;  and  as  it  was  not  very  far  to  the  main- 
land, they  decided  on  swimming  thither. 

"  Indeed,"  said  Silver-nose,  "I  am  tired  of 
this  dull  place ;  we  are  not  better  off  here  than 
we  were  in  the  little  island  in  Stony  Lake, 
where  our  good  old  mother  took  care  we  should 
have  plenty  to  eat,  and  we  had  a  nice  warm 
nest  to  shelter  us." 

"  Ah  I  well,  it  is  of  no  use  grumbling  now ; 
if  we  were  to  go  back,  we  should  only  get  a 
scolding,. and  perhaps  be  chased  off  the  island." 
said  Nimble.  "  Now  let  us  have  a  race,  and 
see  which  of  us  will  get  to  shore  first;"  and 
he  leaped  over  Yelvet-paw's  head,  and  was 
soon  swimming  merrily  for"  the  shore.  He  was 
soon  followed  by  his  companions,  and  in  half 


f#^ 


64 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


m 


]  i 


m 


f 


.  iii 


t. 


I 


an  hour  they  v7ere  all  safely  landecl.  ioiitead 
of  going  uito  tlie  thick  forest,  they  .igreed  to 
take  the  path  by  the  margin  oi'  the  )  xke,  for 
tnere  they  had  a  better  cLss^ice  of  getting  nuta 
and  firuit;  but  though  it  was  the  merrj-  rnontli 
of  June,  and  there  wc.e  pleni}?  of  pretty  flower 
in  blc.orn,  the  berries  were  hardly  ripe,  ainl  our 
littlt^  vagr;mts  faied  but  badly.  Besides  being 
hungry,  'hey  were  sadly  afraid  of  the  eagles 
sta«i  fibii-hawks  that  kept  hovering  over  the 
water;  and  when  they  went  furthcj  into  the 
forest  to  avoid  them,  they  saw  a  gieat  white 
wood-owl,  noiselessly  flying  out  from  among  the 
close  cedar  swamps,  that  seemed  just  ready  to 
pounce  down  upon  them.  The  grey  squirrels 
did  not  like  the  look  of  the  owl's  great  round 
shining  eyes,  as  they  peered  at  them,  under 
the  tufts  of  silky  white  feathers,  which  almost 
hid  his  hooked  bill;  and  their  hearts  sunk 
within  them,  when  they  heard  his  hoUo-w  cry, 
"J3b,  ho,  ho,  hor  ''Waugh,  hoT  dismally 
sounding  in  their  ears. 

It  was  well  that  Yelvet-paw  was  as  swift 
afoot  as  she  was  soft,  for  one  of  these  great 


^' :***■* 


'A 


.■■Mi; 


B-^^, 


[-T.-^    i.fTITr^prH^r^.'^-t,"  ■ 


HISTORY  OF  A  SQUIRREL  TAMILT.         66 


owls  had  very  nearly  caught  her,  while  she  was 
eating  a  filbert  that  she  had  found  in  a  cleft 
branch,  where  a  nuthatch  had  fixed  it,  while  she 
pecked  a  hole  in  the  shell.  Some  bird  of  prey 
had  scared  away  the  poor  nuthatch,  and  Yel vet- 
paw  no  doubt  thought  she  was  in  luck  when 
she  found  the  prize;  but  it  would  have  been 
a  dear  nut  to  her,  if  Nimble,  who  was  a  sharp- 
sighted  fellow,  had  not  seen  the  owl,  and  cried 
"  (7AiV,  chit^  chit,  chit!^^  to  warn  her  of  her 
danger.  "  Chit,  chit,  chit,  chit  /"  cried  "Velvet- 
paw,  and  away  she  flew  to  the  very  top  of  a 
tall  pine-tree,  springing  fi-om  one  tree-top  to 
another,  till  she  was  soon  out  of  the  old  owl's 
reach. 

"What  shall  we  do  for  supper  to-night?" 
said  Silver-nose,  looking  very  pitifully  at  Nim- 
ble-foot ;  whom  they  looked  upon  as  the  head 
of  .the  family. 

"  We  shall  not  want  for  a  good  supper  and 
breakfast  too,  or  I  am  very  much  mistaken. 
Do  you  see  that  red  squirrel  yonder,  climbing 
the  hemlock-tree  ?    Well,  my  dears,  he  has  a 

fine  store  of  good  things  in  that  beech-tree. 

6*  m 


V 


# 


^■'^  m 


i       ■(:■ 


66 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


W 


lis 


vt  m 


» «■  ■■;' 


I  watched  him  run  down  with  a  nut  in  his 
teeth.  Let  us  wait  patiently,  and  we  shall  see 
him  come  again  for  another ;  and  as  soon  as  he 
has  done  his  meal,  we  will  go  and  take  ours." 

The  red  squirrel  ran  to  and  fro  several 
times,  each  time  carrying  off  a  nut  to  his  nest 
in  the  hemlock ;  after  a  while,  he  came  no  more. 
As  soon  as  he  was  out  of  sight  Nimble  led  the 
way,  and  found  the  hoard.  The  beech  was 
quite  hollow  in  the  heart,  and  they  went  down 
through  a  hole  in  the  branch,  and  found  a 
store  of  hazel-nuts,  with  acorns,  hickory-nuts, 
butter-nuts,  and  beech-mast,  all  packed  quite 
close  and  dry.  They  soon  made  a  great  hole 
in  the  red  squirrel's  store  of  provisions,  and 
were  just  choosing  some  nuts  to  carry  ofl  with 
them,  when  they  were  disturbed  by  a  scratch- 
ing against  the  bark  of  the  tree.  Nimble,  who 
was  always  the  first  to  take  care  of  himselt^ 
gave  the  alarm,  and  he  and  Velvet-paw,  being 
nearest  to  the  hole,  got  off  safely ;  but  poor 
Silvy  had  the  ill  luck  to  sneeze,  and  before  she 
had  time  to  hide  herself  the  angry  red  squirrel 
sprang  upon  her  and  gave  her  such  a  terrible 


«r 


% 


6  4    WH 


■^A, 


;d<^;i!:-&.:«i 


^'f^M.y^'i 


HISTORY  OF  A  SQUIRREL  TAMILT. 


67 


cuffing  and  scratcliing,  that  Silvy  cried  out  for 
mercy.  As  to  Nimble-foot  and  Velvet-paw, 
they  paid  no  heed  to  her  cries  for  help;  they 
ran  away,  and  left  hur  to  bear  the  blame  of  all 
their  misdeeds,  as  well  as  her  own.  Thieves  are 
always  cowards,  and  are  sure  to  forsake  one 
another  when  danger  is  nigh. 

The  angry  red  squirrel  pushed  poor  Silvy 
out  of  her  granary,  and  she  was  glad  to  crawl 
away,  and  hide  herself  in  a  hole  at  the  root  of 
a  neighbouring  tree,  where  she  lay  in  great 
pain  and  terror,  licking  her  wounds,  and  crying 
to  think  how  cruel  it  was  of  her  brother  and 
sistei'  to  leave  her  to  the  mercy  of  the  red 
squirrel.  It  was  surely  very  cowardly  of 
Nimble-foot  and  Yelvet-paw  to  forsake  her  in 
such  a  time  of  need ;  nor  was  this  the  only 
danger  that  befel  poor  Silvy.  One  morning, 
when  she  put  her  nose  out  of  the  hole,  to  look 
about  her  before  venturing  out,  she  saw  seated 
on  a  branch,  close  beside  the  tree  she  was  un- 
der a  raccoon,  staring  full  at  her,  with  his  sharp, 
cunning  black  eyes.  She  was  ve-y  much  afraid 
of  him,  for  she  thought  he  looked  very  hungry ; 


'-jj^j-..  .^ 


'.}ir_...^^ 


■id^Vt'i';,,'.a:--'.-^v:it3.,'...L  ■  ..'j>'.'^->^iit.ai£ifl 


••■    THE  CANAWAN  y02V:ST. 


'",'< 


#• 


but  afl  she  knew  that  raccoons  are  very  fond  of 
nuts  and  fruit,  she  said  to  herself,  **  Perhaps  if 
I  show  him  where  the  red  squirrel's  granary 
in  the  beech-tree  is,  he  will  not  kill  me/'  Then 
she  said  very  softly  to  him,  "  Good  Mister  Coon, 
if  you  want  a  very  nice  breakfast,  and  will 
promise  to  do  me  no  hurt,  I  will  tell  you  where 
to  find  plenty  of  nuts." 

I  The  coon  eyed  her  with  a  sly  grin,  and 
said,  "  K  I  can  get  any  thing  more  to  my  taste 
than  a  pretty  grey  squirrel,  I  will  take  it^ 
my  dear,  and  not  lay  a  paw  upon  your  soft 
back." 

"Ah I  but  you  nmst  promise  not  to  touch 
•    me,  if  I  come  out  and  show  you  where  to  find 
,'      the  nuts,"  said  Silvy. 

"  Upon  the  word  and  honour  of  a  coon !'' 
replied  the  raccoon,  laying  one  black  paw  upon 
his  breast f  "but  if  you  do  not  come  out  of 
your  hole,  I  shall  soon  come  and  dig  you  out, 
so  you  had  best  be  quick ;  and  if  you  trust  me, 
you  shall  come  to  no  hurt." 

Then  Silvy  thought  it  wisest  to  seem  to  trust 
the  I'accoon's  word,  and  she  came  out  of  her  hole, 


r 


!?%-■ 


GREY  SQUIRREL.— NIMBLK   RECOVERING    HIS   SISTER.     I'ase  6S. 


t\ 


y 

1 

1 

|Q 

Hj  W 

1  > 

Hf  Hi 

■ 

II 

m  p 

1 

ft 

1 

1 

■;,. 

: 

H^ 

w 

ill'' 

t    \ 

HISTORY  or  A  SQUIRBEL  FAMILY.         6^ 


and  went  a  few  paces  to  point  out  the  tree, 
where  her  enemy  the  red  squirrel's  store  of 
nuts  was ;  but  as  soon  as  she  saw  Mister  Coon 
disappear  in  the  hollow  of  the  tree,  she  bade  him 
good-bye,  and  whisked  up  a^tall  tree,  where 
she  knew  the  raccoon  could  not  reach  her ;  and 
having  now  quite  recovered  her  strength,  she 
was  able  to  leap  from  branch  to  branch,  and  even 
from  one  tree  to  another,  whenever  they  grew 
close  and  the  boughs  touched,  as  they  often  do 
in  the  grand  old  wood?  in  Canada ;  and  so  she 
was  soon  far,  far  away  from  the  artful  coon,  who' 
waited  a  long  time,  hoping  to  carry  off  poor 
Silvy  for  his  dinner.  ,  s         ;  ^^«£'  r;" 

Silvy  contrived  to  pick  up  a  living  by  digging 
for  roots,  and  eating  such  fruits  as  she  could 
find ;  but  one  day  she  came  to  a  grassy  cleared  , 
spot,  where  she  saw  a  strange-looking  tent, 
made  with  poles  stuck  into  the  ground  and 
meeting  at  the  top,  from  which  came  a  bluish 
cloud  that  spread  among  the  trees;  p^d  as  Silvy 
was  very  curious,  she  came  nearer,  and  at  last, 
hearing  no  sound,  ran  up  one  of  the  poles,  and 
peeped  in,  to  see  what  was  within  side,  thinking 


#:■. 


.«^- 


a. 


4if 


ff^ 


*■ 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST* 


it  migtt  be  one  of  the  fine  stores  of  grain  that 
people  built  for  the  squirrels,  as  her  cousin 
Blackie  had  made  her  believe.  The  poles  were 
covered  with  sheets  of  birch-bark,  and  skins  of 
deer  Jand  wolves,  §nd  there  was  a  fire  of  sticks 
burning  Ia  the  middle,  round  which  some  large 
creatures  were  sitting  on  a  bear's  skin,  eating 
something  that  smelt  very  nice.  They  had 
long  black  hair,  and  black  eyes,  and,  very 
white  teeth.  Silvy  felt  alarmed  at  first;  but 
thinking  they  must  be  the  people  who  were 
kind  to  squirrels,  she  ventured  to  slip  through 
a  slij  in  the  bark,  and  ran  down  into  the 
wigwam,  hoping  to  get  something  to  eat ;  but 
in  a  minute  the  Indians  jumped  up,  and  be- 
fore she  had  time  to  make  her  escape  she  was 
:€eized  by  a  young  squaw,  and  popped  into  a 
birch  box,  and  the  lid  shut  down  upon  her  ; 
BO  poor  Silvy  was  caught  in  a  trap ;  and  all 
for  believing  the  artful  black  squirrel's  tales. 

Silver-nose  remembered  her  mother's  warning 
now,  when  it  was  too  late ;  she  tried  to  get  out 
of  her  prison,  but  in  vain ;  the  sides  of  the  box 
were  too  strong,  and  there  was  not  so  much  as 


M's,!^ 


.*■ 


.iS?*'ii;Sfefa 


HBTOBT  6ir  A  RftTTTt.»»-  i      * 

"'  ■*■  oQlTIBBltl,  rXXtLT.       "71 

'""S'*®*^  for  a  peep  hole      Aft      ^    , 
^n  shut  up  soae  £e  al  lid  ""^ 

--tfle,  .„d  a  dart  Cd' „^!  "^ '^'^  » 

filing,  r^  ^^'czr'"^'' 

bei"g  caught  and  shuT?  ""  ^"^"'^  ^* 

^^— e!,.:i:s;L:rSar"^^ 

going  to  eat  her      A  fl-^  ^^  ^®^® 

'■^-^w  used  to  feed  l.r  r  *"'  '^^  '"«« 
!out  of  the  br/r?  '  '""^  ""^  "^^^  *»°t  her 
Kwh^m^:!^^;;^-'''*^ -ice  light 

"  ««>e  bark  dish  wTth!  "^^  "°"  *°  ««  °". 
knee  of  food,    ll  ''''*''''  ^"^  ^''«''- 

S"  or  a  tree,  near  the  wigwam  tn  »    • 
I'^i  f^  as  the  wind  waved^Z' .         ^*  *° 

K-MseethebirdlSgtaT;.^": 

^'^■^  to   theix.  cheerfol   ^f     Thl  ^%"' 
pomen  and  ohiWr,^    i.   .        ^'     ^®    ^^^an 

h-or'.^tt    ^^-^^''^■^dlook, 

^--HndXtra;^,'"""'^"'^*-^ 
F-^g  W    1:   '  ^'^^^  '""^  "ot  help 

g  ''«•.    She  was  verjr  g^teful  for  her  =~ 


fc. 


:,;:■.■*  ..,,*.■ 


"¥ 


lii! 


U 


#' 


72' 


THE  OAITAPIAN  FOEESTi  >"W^ 


vi-'i"*'r'^'TO»'^' 


"'^f.Tr 


care ;  for  when  slie  was  sick  or  sulkj,  the  little 
squaw  gave  her  bits  of  maple-sugar  and  parched 
rice  out  of  her  hand.  At  last  Silvy  ^ew  tame, 
and  would  suffer  herself  to  be  taken  out  of  her 
house,  to  sit  on  her  mistress's  shoulder^igor  in 
her  lap ;  and  though  she  sometimes  raul^Wayj 
and  hid  herself,  out  of  fun,  she  would  not  have 
gone  far  from  the  tent  of  the  good  Indians,  on 
any  account.  Sometimes  she  saw  the  red  squir- 
rels running  about  in  the  forest,  but  they  never 
came  very  near  her ;  but  she  used  to  watch  all 
day  long  for  her  brother  "Nimble-foot,  or  sister] 
"Velvet ;  but  they  were  now  far  away  from  her, 
and  no  doubt  thought  that  she  had  been  killed  I 
by  the  red  squirrel,  or  eaten  up  by  a  fox  or| 
raccoon. 

"Nurse,  I  am  so  glad  pretty  Silvy  was.  not 
killed,  and  that  the  good  Indians  took  carej 
of  her."  ' 

"It  is  time  now,  my  dear,  for  you  to  piitl 
down  your  book,"  said  Mrs.  Erazer,  "and  to-| 
morrow  we  will  read  some  more." 

"Yes,  if  you  please,  Mrs.  Frazer,"  said  Maryj 


^  v 

*-    ■■' 

;  -'■'•:■ 

'  "4flP'' 

;.'/ 

J^ 

^miiiAiMiiiiii 

-.ii 

^th.^r:^ 


HISTORf  ^#  A  d<^tM!B^  tjbULY,         f$ 


CBtAI*tER  V. 


HOW  THli  SQUIRItELS  GOT  TO  THK   HILL  AT  THX  KJJPIDS 
— AND  WHAT  HAPPBNBD  TO  VKLVBT-PAW. 

vriMBLB-FOOl!*  and  Telvet-i)av^  vret^  ^o 
frightened  by  the  ^ght  of  the  red  sqtdrrel, 
that  they  ran  down  the  tree  without  once  look 
ing  back  to  see  what  had  beebnie  of  f)Oo]p 
Silver-nose;  indeed  the  cowards,  instead  of 
Waiting  ht  their  poor  sister,  fled  thniiigh  the 
forest  as  if  an  army  of  red  squirrels  Were 
behind  them.  At  last  they  reached  th^e  banks 
of  the  lake,  and,  jtmiping  into  the  water,  swain 
down  the  ciirrent  till  thcy  caWe  to  a  place 
called  the  "Narrow,"  wheife  the  wide  lake 
poured  its  waters  through  a  dee^  rocky  chan- 
nel, not  more  than  a  hundred  yaTds  Wide ;  her^ 
the  waters  became  so  rough  and  rapid,  that  our 
Htfle  swimmers  thought  it  wisei^  fo  gO  on  shore. 

They  scrambled  up  the  steep  rocky  bank,  and 
7 


I 


ijf^- 


it-:^: 


^^'tsm^-wr^ 


74 


THE  CANADIAN  FOEEST. 


r«'  i]\ 


found  themselves  on  a  wide  open  space,  quite 
free  from  trees,  which  they  knew  must  be  one 
of  the  great  clearings  the  traveller  squirrel  had 
spoken  of.  There  was  a  very  high  building  on 
the  water's  edge,  that  they  thought  must  be  the 
mill  that  the  chitmunks  had  told  them  they 
would  come  to ;  and  they  were  in  good  spirits, 
as  they  now  expected  to  find  plenty  of  good 
things  laid  up  for  them  to  eat,  so  they  went  in 
by  the  door  of  the  mill. 

"Dear  me,  what  a  dust  there  is  I"  said 
Nimble,  looking  about  him;  "I  think  it  must 
be  snowing." 

"Snow  does  not  fall  in  hot  weather,"  said 
Velvet;  "besides,  this  white  powder  is  very 
sweet  and  nice ;"  and  she  began  to  lick  some  of 
the  flour  that  lay  in  the  cracks  of  the  floor. 

"I  have  found  some  nice  seeds  here,"  said 
Nimble,  running  to  the  top  of  a  sack  that  stood' 
with  the  mouth  untied ;  "these  are  better  than 
pine-kernels,  and  not  so  hard.  "We  must  have 
come  to  one  of  the  great  grain-stores  that  our 
cousin  told  us  o£    Well,  I  am  sure  the  people 


% 


.i 


w 


HISTORY  OP  A  SQUIRREL  FAMILY.  75 


are  very  kind  to  have  laid  up  so  many  good 
things  for  us  squirrels." 

"When  they  had  eaten  as  much  as  they  liked, 
they  began  to  run  about  to  see  what  was  in  the 
mill.  Presently,  a  man  came  in,  and  they  saw 
him  take  one  of  the  sacks  of  wheat,  and  pour 
it  into  a  large  upright  box,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  there  was  a  great  noise — a  sort  of  buz- 
zing, whirring,  rumbling,  dashing,  and  splash- 
ing;— and  away  ran  Yelvet-paw  in  a  tenible 
fright,  and  scrambled  up  some  beams  and 
rafters  to  the  top  of  the  wall,  where  she  sat 
watching  what  was  going  on,  trembling  all 
over;  but  finditjp  that  no  harm  happened  to 
her,  took  courage,  and  after  a  time  ceased  to  be 
afraid.  She  saw  Nimble  perched  on  a  cross- 
beam looking  down  very  intently  at  some- 
thing ;  -30  she  came  out  of  her  comer  and  ran  +o 
him,  and  asked  what  he  was  looking  at. 

"There  is  a  great  black  thing  here,"  said  he, 
"I  cannot  tell  what  to  make  of  him  at  all ;  it 
turns  roun^pnd  round,  and  round,  and  dashes 
the  water  about,  making  a  fine  splash."  (This 
4^as  the  water-wheel.) 


-v*^ 


iSt^ 


¥ 


^B  Cj^ADUJg  FORSPT. 


K:   U 


■  "It  lopk9  very  ugly,  indeed,"  said  Velvet- 
paw,  "and  makes  my  head  giddy  to  look  at  it ; 
let  us  go  away.  I  want  to  find  out  wjiat  tbese 
twQ  big  stopes  are  doiug,"  said  she;  "they 
keep  rubbing  against  one  another,  and  inaking 
a  great  noise." 

"There  is  nothing  so  wonderful  in  two  big 
stones,  my  dear,"  said  Nimble;  "I  have  seen 
plenty  bigger  than  these  in  Stony  LoJse," 

"But  they  did  pot  move  about  as  these  do; 
and  only  look  here  at  the  white  stuff  that  is 
running  down  all  the  time  into  this  great  box. 
Well,  we  shall  not  want  for  food  for  the  rest  of 
opr  lives ;  I  msk  poor  SHvy  were  with  us  to 
share  in  our  good  luck." 

They  saw  a  great  many  other  strange  things 
in  th^  mill,  and  ^hej  thought  that  the  miller 
was  a  very  funny  looking  creature ;  but  as  they 
fancied  that  he  was  grinding  the  wheat  into 
fiour  for  thei. ,  they  were  not  mpch  afraid  of 
him ;  they  were  more  troubled  at  the  sight  of  & 
black  dog,  which  spied  them  out  us  they  sat 
on  the  beams  of  the  ipill,  and  ran  about  in 
a  great  rage,   barking  at  them  m  a  frightful 


.n. 


HISTORY  OP  A  SQUIRBEL  FAMILY.        77 

way,  aad  never  left  off  till  the  miller  went  out 
of  the  mill,  when  he  went  away  with  his  master, 
and  did  no<.  return  till  the  next  day ;  but  when- 
ever he  saw  the  grey  squirrels,  this  little  dog, 
whose  name  was  "  Pinch,"  was  sure  to  set 
up  his  ears  and  tail,  and  snap  and  bark,  show- 
ing all  his  sharp  white  teeth  in  a  very  savage 
manner. 

Not  far  from  the  mill  was  another  building : 
this  was  the  house  the  miller  lived  in;  and 
close  by  the  house  was  a  bam,  a  stable,  a 
cow-shed,  and  a  sheep-pen,  and  there  was  a 
garden  full  of  fruit  and  flowers,  and  an  orchard 
of  apple-trees  close  by. 

One  day  Yelvet-paw  ran  up  one  of  the  apple- 
trees  and  began  to  eat  an  apple ;  it  looked  very 
good,  for  it  had  a  bright  red  cheek,  but  it  was 
hard  and  sour,  not  being  ripe,  "  I  do  not  like 
these  big,  sour  berries,"  said  she,  making  wry 
faces  as  she  tried  to  get  the  bad  taste  out  of  her 
mouth  by  wiping  her  tongue  on  her  fore-paw. 
Nimble  had  found  some  ripe  currants;  so  he 
only  laughed  at  poor  Velvet  for  the  trouble  she 
wasiik^^,^ 


W' 


w  *♦ 


m. 


i^- 


IT 


l!m  OAIf  ADilAN  F0BE8T. 


J  Th^fHB  littk  grej  aquiryela  now  led  a  merry 
jife^  they  found  plenty  to  et^t  and  drink,  and 
would  not  have  had  a  care  in  the  world  if  it 
had  not  1;>een  for  the  noisy  little  dog  Finch,  who 
let  them  have  no  quiet,  barking  and  baying 
at  them  whenever  he  saw  them ;  and  also  for 
the  watchful  eyes  of  a  great  tom-cat,  who  was 
alwctys  prowling  about  the  mill,  or  creeping 
round  the  orchard  and  outhouses ;  so  that  with 
all  their  good  food  they  were  not  quit©  free  from 
causes  of  fear,  and  no  doubt  sometimes  wished 
themselves  safe  back  on  the  little  rocky  island, 
in  their  nest  in  the  old  oak-tree. 

Time  passed  away — ^the  wheat  and  the  oats 
were  now  ripe  and  fit  for  the  scythe,  for  in 
Canada  the  settlers  mow  wheat  with  an  in- 
strument called  a  ^*ciadle  scythe."  The  beau- 
tiful Indian  com  was  in  bloom,  and  its  long 
pale-green  silken  tkeadsi  were  waving  in  the 
summer  breeze.  The  blue-jays  were  busy  in 
the  fields  of  wheat;  so  were  the  red-wingexi 
blackbirds,  and  the  sparrows,  and  many  other 
birds,  great  and  small  j  field-mice  in  dozens 
were  cutting  the  straw  with  their  srarp  teeth, 


I' 


i 


\ , 


HISTOBT  or  A  SQimailL  FAMILY.         TO 


and  carrying  off  the  grain  to  tlieir  nests ;  and 
as  to  the  squirrels  and  chitmnnks,  there  were 
scores  of  them,  black,  red,  and  grey,  filling  their 
cheeks  with  the  grain,  and  laying  it  out  on  the 
rail  fences,  and  on  the  top  of  the  stumps,  to 
dry,  before  they  carried  it  away  to  their  store- 
houses. And  many  a  battle  the  rer*  and  the 
black  squirrels  had,  and  sometimes  the  grey 
joined  with  the  red,  to  beat  the  black  ones  off 
the  ground. 

Nimble-foot  and  his  sister  kept  out  of  these 
quarrels  as  much  as  they  could ;  but  once  they 
got  a  severe  beating  from  the  red  squirrels  for 
not  helping  them  to  drive  off  the  saucy  black 
ones,  who  would  carry  away  the  little  heaps  of 
wheat,  as  soon  as  they  were  dry. 

"  We  do  not  mean  to  trouble  ourselves  with 
laying  up   winter   stores,"    said   Nimble   one  j 
day  to  his  red  cousins;  "don*t  you  see  Peter/ 
the  miller's  man,  has  got  a  great  wagon  and 
horses,   and  is  carting  wheat  into  the  barn 
for  us?" 

The  red  squirrel  opened  his  round  eyes  very 
wide  at  this  erpeeoh.     *'  Why,  oc^nsin  Nimble,^ 


>. 


-f';^ 


,  4  ite-. 


V*- 


80 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


P^       r  ,^*-'- 


II  if 


he  said,  "you  are  not  so  foolish  as  tf  tiiink  the 
miller  is  harvesting  that  grain  for  your  use. 
No,  no,  my  friend ;  if  you  want  any,  you  must 
work  as  we  do,  or  run  the  chance  of  starv"  ,  in 
the  winter." 

Then  Nimble  told  him  what  their  cousin 
Blackie  had  said.  "You  were  wise  fellows  to 
believe  such  nonsense  1"  said  the  red  squirrel. 
"These  mills  and  bams  are  all  stored  for  the 
use  of  the  miller  and  his  family ;  and  what  is 
more,  my  friend,  I  can  tell  you  that  men  are  no 
great  friends  to  us  poor  squirrels,  and  will  kill 
us  wli'^n  they  get  the  chance,  and  begrudge  us 
the  gram  we  help  ourselves  to." 

"  "Well,  that  is  very  stingy,"  said  Velvet- 
paw  ;  "  I  am  sure  there  is  enough  for  men  and 
squirrels  too.  However,  I  suppose  all  must  live, 
so  we  will  let  them  have  what  we  leave;  I 
shall  help  myself  a%r  they  have  stored  it  up 
in  yonder  bam." 

"  You  had  better  do  as  we  do,  and  make  L  iy 
while  the  sun  shines,"  said  the  red  squirrel. 

"I  would  rpther  play  in  the  sunshine,  and 
eat  what  I  want  here,"  said  idle  Velvet-paw, 


..-■a%, 


HISTOBY  or  A  SQUIRKEIi  PAMILT.        81 


setting  up  her  fine  tail  like  a  feather  over  her 
back,  as  she  ate  an  ear  of  corn. 

"  You  are  a  foolish,  idle  thing,  and  will  conifi 
to  no  good,"  said  the  red  squirrel.  "  onder 
where  you  were  brought  up  ?" 

I  am  very  sorry  to  relate  tnat  ,  ^-jUiSf 
did  not  come  to  a  good  end,  lor  she  did  not 
take  the  advice  of  her  red  cousin,  to  lay  up 
provisions  during  the  harvest;  but  instead  of 
that,  she  axe  all  day  long,  and  grew  lat  and 
lazy ;  and  after  the  fields  were  all  cleared,  shiei . 
went  to  the  miU  one  day,  when  the  mil}  wa* 
grinding,  and  seeing  a  quantity  of  wheat  in  th© 
feeder  of  the  mill,  she  ran  up  a  bet^m  and 
juQiped  down,  thinlcing  to  make  a  good  dinner 
from  the  grain  she  saw;  but  it  kept  sliding 
down,  and  sliding  down  so  fast,  that  she  could 
not  get  one  grain,  so  at  last  she  began  to  be 
frightened,  and  tried  to  get  up  again,  but,  alas  I 
this  was  not  possible.  She  cried  out  to  Nimble 
to  help  her;  and  while  he  ran  to  look  for  a 
stick  for  her  to  raise  herself  up  by,  the  mill- 
wheel  kept  on  turning,  and  the  great  stones 
wenti  roujad  faster  ai^d  fas1;er,  tiU  poor  J^0^ 


i^:-^ 


\ 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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J!-  Ail   M^ 


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I.I 


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1.8 


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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


4. 


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% 


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>> 


'ij,^ 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


m 


^ 


.# 


% 


1 


..{«• 


m 


82 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


paw  was  crushed  to  death  between  thein. 
Nimble  was  now  left  all  alone,  and  sad  enough 
he  was,  you  may  suppose.  ■' 

"Ah,"  said  he,  "idleness  is  the  ruin  of  grey 
squirrels,  as  well  as  men,  so  I  will  go  away 
from  this  place,  and  try  and  earn  an  honest 
living  in  the  forest.  I  wish  I  had  not  believed 
all  the  fine  tales  my  cousin  the  black  squirrel 
told  me." 

Then  Nimble  went  away  from  the  clearing, 
and  once  more  resolved  to  seek  his  fortune  in 
.  the  woods.  He  knew  there  were  plenty  of  but- 
ter-nuts, acorns,  hickory-nuts,  and  beech-nuts,  to 
be  found,  besides  many  sorts  of  berries ;  and  he 
very  diligently  set  to  work  to  lay  up  stores 
against  the  coming  winter. 

As  it  was  now  getting  cold  at  night.  Nimble- 
foot  thought  it  would  be  wise  to  make  himself 
a  warm  house ;  so  he  found  out  a  tall  hemlock- 
pine  that  was  very  thick  and  bushy  at  the  top ; 
there  was  a  forked  branch  in  the  tree,  with  a 
hollow  just  fit  for  his  nest.  He  carried  twigs 
of  birch  and  beech,  and  over  these  he  laid  dry 
gre€»  moss,  which  he  collected  on  the  north 


:m4. 


'^i. 


.  * 


^' 


# 


'ivy'''-v-ii:!^^^^pif>^'^''j^Ff^^:i*j 


HISTORY  OP  A  SQUIRREL  FAMILY.         83 

side  of  the  cedar-trees,  and  some  long  grey 
moss  that  he  found  on  the  swamp  maples,  and 
then  he  stripped  the  silky  threads  from  the 
milk-weeds,  and  the  bark  of  the  cedar  and 
birch-trees.  These  he  gnawed  fine,  and  soon 
made  a  soft  bed;  he  wove  and  twisted  the 
sticks,  and  roots,  and  mosses  together,  tillthe 
walls  of  his  house  were  quite  thick,  and  he 
made  a  sort  of  thatch  over  the  top  with  dry 
leaves  and  long  moss,  with  a  round  hole  to 
creep  in  and  out  of. 

Making  this  warm  house  took  him  many 
days'  labour;  but  many  strokes  will  fell  great 
oaks,  so  at  last  Nimble-foot's  work  came  to  an 
end,  and  he  had  the  comfort  of  a  charming 
house  to  shelter  him  from  the  cold  season.  He 
laid  up  a  good  store  of  nuts,  acorns,  and  roots : 
some  he  put  in  a  hollow  branch  of  the  hemlock- 
tree  close  to  his  nest ;  some  he  hid  in  a  stump, 
83^  another  store  he  laid  under  the  roots  of  a 
mossy  cedar.  When  all  this  was  done,  he 
began  to  feel  very  lonely,  and  often  wished  no 
doubt  that  he  had  g$d  his  sisters  Silvy  and 


Velvet-paw  with  hiili,  to  share  bis  nice  Yrsajsi 


P- 


■*^£' 


•■■V 


I 


¥ 


.,^ 


84 


•r»E  OANAMAN  P<>llB»f.' 


m 


house ;  hit  of  Silvy  he  knew  ii;>tbin^,  arid  pOof 
Velvet-paw  was  deadi 

One  fine  ntoonlight  night,  as  NknM^  Wad 
frisking  about  on  the  botigh  of  a  bireh-tree,  not 
very  fhr  from  his  b^^ise  in  tb(5  hetT\lock,  he  saw 
a  canoey  land  on  the  i^ore  of  the  lake,  and  acmae 
IndiasAB  with  an  axe  cut  down  some  bushes, 
and  having  cleared  a  smalli  piece  of  ground, 
begin  to  sharpen  the  ends  of  sota&e  long  poles. 
I'hese  they  stuck  into  the  ^und  close  togetiiier 
in  a  circle ;  and  having  stripped  some  sheets  of 
birch^bark  from  the  Wtch-trees  close  by,  they 
thatched  the  sides  of  the  hut,  and  made  a  fire 
of  sticks  inside.  They  had  a  dead  deer  in  the 
canoe,  and  there  were  several  hares  and  black 
sC[uirrels,  the  sight  of  WhicI  iher  alarmed 
Kimble ;  for  he  thought  if  they  killed  one  sort 
of  squirrel,  they  might  aiiother,  and  he  was 
very  much  scared  at  one  of  the  Indians  firing 
off  a  gun  close  by  him.  The  n<»se  made 
fall  down  to  the  grburd,  i^d  it  was  a 
thing  that  it  was'  dark  among  the  leaves  and 
grass  where  the  trwak  of  the  tree  threw  its  long 
•hadowi  90  tioAt  the  Indiaa'  did  not  see  him,  or 


#. 


HISTOBT  OP  A  aOlUIBBEL  FAMILY 


B6 


perhapf)  he  might  hwve  loaded  the  gun  agun, 
and  shot  our  little  friend,  and  made  soup  of 
him  for  his  supper. 

Nimble  ran  swiftly  up  a  pine«tree,  and  was 
soon  out  of  danger.  While  he  was  watching 
8ome  of  the  Indiau  childreu  ^  play,  he  saw  a 
girl  come  out  of  the  hut  with  a  grey  squirrel  in 
her  arms ;  it  did  not  seem  at  all  afraid  of  her, 
but  nestled  to  her  Moulder,  and  even  ate  out  of 
her  hand;  and  what  was  Kimble's  surprise  to 
see  that  this  tame  grey  squirrel  was  none  other 
than  his  own  pretty  sister  Silver-nose,  whom  he 
had  left  in  the  hollow  tree  when  they  both  ran 
away  from  the  red  squirrel. 

You  may  suppose  the  sight  of  his  lost  com- 
panion was  a  joyful  one ;  he  waited  for  a  long, 
long  time,  till  the  fire  went  out,  and  all  the 
Indians  were  fast  asleep,  and  little  Silvy  came 
out  to  play  in  the  moonlight,  and  frisk  about 
on  the  dewy  grass  as  she  used  to  do.  Then 
Nimble,  when  he  saw  her,  ran  down  the  tree, 
and  came  to  her  and  rubbed  his  nose  against 
hey,  and  licked  her  soft  frir,  and  told  her  who 
he  wa^,  and  hoi^  sorry  he  waa  for  having  left 


8 


'^■■^i    „ 


^■%., 


• 


"4* 


T' 


'yyvi"' 


86 


THE  OANADIAN  FOREST. 


'\ 


#.'.VV 


her  in  so  cowardly  a  maimer,  to  be  beaten  by 
the  red  squirrel. 

:  The  good  little  Silvy  told  Nimble  not  to  fret 
about  what  was  past,  and  then  she  asked  him 
for  her  sister  Velvet-paw.  Nimble  had  a  long 
sorrowful  tale  to  tell  about  the  death  of  poor 
Velvet  jajfand  Silvy  was  much  grieved.  Then 
in  her  turn  she  told  Nimble  all  her  adventures, 
and  how  she  had  been  caught  by  the  Indian 
^1,  and  kept,  and  fed,  and  tamed,  and  had 
passed  her  time  very  happily,  if  it  had  not  been 
for  thinking  about  her  dear  lost  companions. 
"  But  now,"  she  said,  "  my  dear  brother,  we  will 
never  part  again ;  you  shall  be  quite  welcome 
to  share  my  cage^  and  my  nice  stores  of  Indian 
corn,  rice,  and  nuts,  which  my  kind  mistress 
gives  me." 

"  I  would  not  be  shut  up  in  a  cage,  not  even 
for  one  day,"  said  Nimble,  "for  all  the  nice 
fruit  and  grain  in  Canada.  I  am  a  free 
squirrel,  and  love  my  liberty.  I  would  not 
exchange  a  life  of  freedom  in  these  fine  old 
woods,  for  all  the  dainties  in  the  world.  So, 
Silvy,  if  you  prefer  a  life  of  idleness  and  ease 


w 


l^^iM  ^ 


^f*--. 


.*■' 


riir.;-  -'l'.,  •-:'  '  f 


M.:/  ■  '^■''''^^'      ' ^'^^ 


'■'.  ••.•y    •v  ■\j.;.fv-^rxrf^-'::<-'^r'ywfi)f 


HISTORY  OF  A  SQUIRREL  FJLMILY.        87 


to  living  with  me  in  the  forest,  I  must  say 
good-bye  to  you."  "      '* 

"But  there  is  nothing  to  hurt  us,  my  dear 
Nimble — ^no  raccoons,  nor  foxes,  nor  hawks,  nor 
owls,  nor  weasels ;  if  I  see  any  hungry-looking 
birds  or  beasts,  I  have  a  safe  place  to  run  to, 
and  never  need  be  hungry  I"  ^.- 

"I  would  not  lead  a  life  like  that,  for  the 
Yforld,"  said  Nimble.  "  I  should  die  of  dulness ; 
if  there  is  danger  in  a  life  of  freedom,  there  is 
pleasure  too,  which  you  cannot  enjoy,  shut  up 
in  a  wooden  cage,  and  fed  at  the  will  of  a  mas- 
ter or  mistress." 

"  "Well,  I  shall  be  shot  if  the  Indians  awake 
and  see  me ;  so  I  shall  be  off." 

Silvy  looked  very  sorrowful ;  she  did  not  like 
to  part  from  her  newly  found  brother,  but  she 
was  unwilling  to  forego  all  the  comforts  and 
luxuries  her  life  of  captivity  afforded  her.         * 

"  You  will  not  tell  the  Indians  where  I  live, 
I  hope,  Silvy,  for  they  would  think  it  a  fine 
thing  to  hunt  me  with  their  dogs,  or  shoot  me 
down  with  their  bows  and  arrows."  '       ' 

At  these  words  Silvy  was  overcome  with 


It*  ■ 


•T*',T^^'' 


88 


THE  OASADUN  FOBEST. 


-•!N=^7', 


grief,  so,  jumping  off  from  the  log  oq  whidb 
she  was  standing,  slie  said,  "Nimble,  I  will 
go  with  you  and  share  all  jour  perils^  and 
we  will  never  part  again."  She  then  ran  into 
the  wigwam;  and  going  softly  to  the  little 
squaw,  who  was  asleep,  lieked  her  hands  and 
face,  aEh|if  she  would  say,  **  Good-bye,  my 
good  kind  frigid;  I  shall  not  Ibrget  all  your 
love  for  mie,  though  I  am  going  away  from  you 
forever." 

Silvy  then  fdlowed  Nimble  into  the  ioreti, 
and  they  soon  reached  his  aice  oomfbrtaUe  neat 
in  the  tall  hemlock-tree. 


w 


"Nurse,  I  am  glad  Silvy  went  away  with 
Nimble,  are  not  you  ?  Poor  Nimble  must  have 
been  so  lonely  without  her,  and  then  you  know 
it  must  have  seemed  so  hard  to  him  if  Silvy 
had  preferred  staying  with  the  Indians,  to 
living  with  him." 

"  Those  who  have  been  used  to  a  life  of  ease 
do  not  willingly  give  it  up,  my  dear;  thus  you 
see^  love  for  her  old  eompanion  was  stroqiger 


;^.^i#'*-' 


i..\ir,',''-*'  i'-^^J4 1 Y. 


:  :,.=    ■^.a^l./^Js. 


('  ■ 


,."''*.       ■■  W" .  :>J  ^.'  •-  (T.'^'.jJ-i  .>  -^r*,  V;:, .; 


HISTORY  OP  A  SQUIRREL  FAMILY.         89 

even  than  love  of  self.  But  I  tliink  you  mufit 
have  tired  yourself  with  reading  so  long  to  me." 

"  Indeed,  nurse,  I  must  read  a  little  more,  for 
I  want  you  to  hear  how  Silvy  and  Nimble 
amused  themselves  in  the  hemlock  tree." 

Then  Mary  went  on  and  read  as  follows. 


Silvy  was  greatly  pleased  with  her  new 
home,  which  was  as  soft  and  as  warm  as  clean 
dry  moss,  hay,  and  fibres  of  roots  could  make 
it.  The  squirrels  built  a  sort  of  pent  or  out- 
er roof  of  twigs,  dry  leaves,  and  roots  of  with- 
ered grass,  which  was  pitched  so  high  that  it 
threw  off  the  rain  and  kept  the  inner  house 
very  dry.  They  worked  at  this  very  diligently, 
and  also  laid  up  a  store  of  nuts  and  berries. 
They  knew  that  they  must  not  only  provide 
plenty  of  food  for  the  winter,  but  also  for  the 
spring  months,  when  they  could  get  little  to  eat 
beside  the  buds  and  bark  of  some  sort  of  trees, 
and  the  chance  seeds  that  might  still  remain 
in  the  pine-cones. 

Thus  the  autumn  months  passed  away  very 
8* 


:(■»' 


'^' 


.sdF';'»^;iS; 


\*'V'"*^7S"'' '    '•/■ 


i2 

■1  ■ 


W 


r 


* 


i90 


Tft«  CAKABlAlT  rOUKSt.      '^^ 


quickly  and  clieerfully  with  the  squirrels  while 
preparing  for  the  coming  winter.  Half  the  cold 
season  was  spent,  too,  in  sleep;  but  on  Mild 
sunny  days  the  little  squirrels,  roused  by  the 
bright  light  of  the  sunbeams  on  the  white  and 
glittering  snow,  would  shake  themselves,  rub 
their  black  eyes,  and  after  licking  themselves 
clean  from  dust,  would  whisk  out  of  their  house 
and  indulge  in  merry  gambols  up  and  down 
the  trunks  of  the  tree,  skipping  jfrom  bough  to 
bough,  and  frolicking  over  the  hard,  crisp  snow, 
which  scarcely  showed  on  its  surface  the  delicate 
print  of  their  tiny  feet,  and  the  Bweep  of  their 
fine  light  feathery  tails.  Sometimes  they  met 
with  some  Httle  shrewmice,  running  on  the 
snow.  These  very  tiny  things  are  so  sn^l, 
they  hardly  look  bigger  than  a  large  black 
beetle;  they  lived  on  the  seeds  of  the  tall 
weeds,  which  they  might  be  seen  climbing  and 
clinging  to,  yet  were  hardly  heavy  enough  to 
Weigh  down  the  heads  of  dry  stalks.  It  is  pretty 
to  see  the  footprints  of  these  small  shrewmice, 
on  the  surface  of  the  fresh  fellen  snow  in  the 
deep  ^rest-glades,    they  are  not  dormant  dui- 


:-.t<:^..- 


m^: 


Vi-    /P^ 


mSTORT  OP  A  SQUIRREL  FAMILY.         91 

Ing  the  winter  like  many  of  the  mouse  tribe, 
for  they  are  up  and  abroad  at  all  seasons ;  for 
however  stormy  and  severe  the  weather  may 
be,  they  do  not  seem  to  heed  its  inclemency. 
Surely,  children,  there  is  one  who  carea  for  the 
small  tender  things  of  earth,  and  shelters  them 
from  the  rude  blasts. 

Nimble-foot  and  Silver-nose  often  saw  their 
cousins,  the  black  squirrels,  pla3dng  in  the  sun- 
sliine,  chasing  each  other  merrily  up  and  down 
the  trees,  or  over  the  brush-heaps;  their  jetty 
coats,  and  long  feathery  tails,  forming  a  strik- 
ing contrast  with  the  whiteness  of  the  snow, 
above  which  they  were  sporting.  Sometimes 
they  saw  a  few  red  squirrels  too,  but  there  was 
rally  war  between  them  and  the  black 


In  these  lonely  forests,  every  thing  seems  still 
and  silent,  during  the  long  winter  season,  as  il 
death  had  spread  a  white  pall  over  the  earth, 
and  hushed  every  living  thing  into  silence. 
Few  sounds  are  heard  through  the  winter 
days,  to  break  the  death-like  silence  that  reigns 
around,  excepting  the  sudden  rending  and  crack- 


.r^-- 


tk'-%'-:: 


f"-%:>f 


^c 


I 


92 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST.       y 


..1 


ing  of  the  trees  in  the  frosty  air,  the  Mi  of  a 
decayed  branch,  the  tapping  of  a  solitary  wood- 
pecker, two  or  three  small  species  of  which  still 
remain  after  all  the  summer  birds  are  flown; 
and  the  gentle,  weak  chirp  of  the  little  tree 
creeper,  as  it  runs  up  and  down  the  hemlocks 
and  pines,  searching  the  crevices  of  the  bark 
for  insects.  Yet  in  all  this  seeming  death  lies 
hidden  the  life  of  myriads  of  insects,  the  huge 
beast  of  the  forest,  asleep  in  his  lair,  with 
many  of  the  smaller  quadrupeds,  and  i^pvest- 
birds,  that,  hushed  in  lonely  places,  shall  awake 
to  life  and  activity  as  soon  as  the  sun-beams 
shall  once  more  dissolve  the  snow,  unbind  the 
frozen  streams,  and  loosen  the  bands  which  held 

them  in  repose.  ^ 

dife 
At  last  the  spring,  the  glad,  joyous  sprmg, 

returned.     The  leaf-buds,  wrapped  within  their 

gummy  and  downy  cases,  began  to  unfold ;  the 

dark  ^een  pines,  spruce,  and  balsams  began  to 

shoot  out  fresh  spiny  leaves,  like  tassels,  from 

the  ends  of  every  bough,  giving  out  the  most 

refreshing  fragrance ;  the  crimson  buds  of  the 

young  hazels,  and  the  scarlet  blossoms  of  the 


■V.--'    ,'  .■■;'« 
vg.  ■-.■'1 


.ygugi^ 


'■'m^f'  .'*v»^*^f"-' '■••-,€?' 


HISTOST  or  i.  8QUIRRIL  FAITILT. 


0» 


soft  maple,  enliTened  the  edges  of  the  streams; 
the  bright  coral  bark  of  the  dogwood  seemed 
as  if  freshly  varnished,  so  brightly  it  glowed  in 
the  morning  sunshine ;  the  scream  of  the  blue 
jay,  the  song  of  the  robin  woodthrush,  the 
merry  note  of  the  chiccadee ;  and  plaintive  cry 
of  the  pheobe,  with  loud  hammering  strokes  of 
the  great  red-headed  woodpecker,  mingled  with 
the  rush  of  the  unbound  forest  streams,  gurg- 
ling and  murmuring  as  their  water  flowed  over 
thfliA|^es,  and  the  sighing  of  the  breeze,  play* 
ing  in  the  tree-tops,  made  pleasant  and  ceaseless 
music.  And  then  as  time  passed  on,  the  trees 
unfolded  all  their  bright  green  leaves,  the  buds 
and  forest  flowers  opened;  and  many  a  bright 
bell  our  little  squirrels  looked  down  upon,  firom 
their  leafy  home,  that  the  eye  of  man  had 
never  seen. 

It  was  pleasant  fbr  our  little  squirrels,  just 
after  sunset,  in  the  still  summer  evenings,  when 
the  small  silver  stars  came  stealing  out,  one  by 
one,  in  the  blue  sky,  to  |^ay  among  the  cool 
dewy  leaves  of  the  gnmd  old  oaks  and  maples; 
to  watch  the  fitM  flash  dif^^the  fireflies,  as  they 


I 


94 


THE  CANADIAN"  FOREST. 


<v 


glanced  Here  and  there,  flitting  througli  the 
deep  gloom  of  the  forest  boughs,  now  lost  to 
sight,  as  they  closed  their  wings,  now  flashing 
out  like  tiny  tapers,  borne  aloft  by  unseen 
hands  in  the  darkness.  Where  that  little  creek 
runs  singing  over  its  mossy  bed,  and  the  cedar- 
boughs  bend  down  so  thick  and  close,  that  only 
a  gleam  of  the  bright  water  can  be  seen,  even 
in  the  sunlight — ^there  the  fireflies  crowd,  and 
the  damp  foliage  is  all  alive  with  their  dazzling 

light.  1(0,. 

In  this  sweet,  still  hour,  just  at  the  dewfall, 
the  rush  of  whirring  wings  may  be  heard  from 
the  islands,  or  in  the  forest,  bordering  on  the 
water's  edge ;  and  out  of  hollow  logs  and  hoary 
trunks  of  trees  come  forth  the  speckled  night- 
hawks,  cutting  the  air  with  their  thin,  sharp, 
wide  wings,  and  open  beak,  ready  to  entrap  the 
unwary  moth,  or  mosquito,  that  float  so  joy- 
ously upon  the  evening  air.  One  after  another, 
sweeping  in  wider  circ/es,  come  forth  these 
birds  of  prey,  till  the  whole  air  seems  alive 
with  them;  darting  hither  and  thither,  and 
uttering  wild,  shrill  screams,  as  they  rise  higher 


■\i 


-.„-,  .,^...  ,^,.,,,,  .._^.. 


■'y/;f  .\  ■    -r-.yi- 


HISTORY-  OF  A  SQUIRREL  FAMILY.        95 


and  liigher  in  the  upper  air,  till  some  are  almost 
lost  to  sight.  Sometimes  one  of  them  will 
descend  with  a  sudden "  swoop,  to  the  lower 
regions  of  the  air,  just  above  the  highest  tree- 
tops,  with  a  hollow  booming  sound,  as  if  some 
one  were  blowing  in  an  empty  vessel. 

At  this  hour,  too,  the  bats  would  quit  their 
homes  in  hollow  trees  and  old  rocky  banks, 
and  flit  noiselessly  abroad,  over  the  surface  of 
the  quiet  star-lit  lake;  and  now  also  would 
beg^^^  shrill,  trilling  note  of  the  green-frog, 
and^re  deep,  hoarse  bass  of  the  bull-frog,  which 
ceases  only  at  intervals,  through  the  long, 
warm  summer  night.  You  might  fancy  a  droll 
sort  of  dialogue  was  being  carried  on  among 
them.  At  first,  a  great  fellow,  the  patriarch  of 
the  swamp,  will  put  up  his  head,  which  looks 
very  much  like  a  small  pair  of  bellows,  with 
yellow  leather  sides;  and  say  in  a  harsh,  gut- 
tural tone,  "Go  to  bed,  go  to  bed,  go  to  bed." 

After  a  moment's  pause,  two  or  three  will 
rise  and  reply,  "No,  I  won't!  no,  I  won't  I  no, 
I  won't  1" 

Then  the  old  fellow,  with  a  growl,  replies—* 


# 


THE  OAKADIAN  FOREST.    >ji^ 


I',. 


"Get  out,  get  out,  get  out,"— *aiid  JortiiwiU^ 
with  ft  rushi  and  a  splajah,  and  a  dash,  they 
raise  a  ohorus  of  whirring,  grating,  growling, 
grunting,  whistling  sounds,  which  make  you 
hold  your  ears.  When  all  this  hubbub  has 
lasted  some  minutes,  there  is  a  pop,  and  a 
splash,  and  down  go  all  the  heads  under  the 
weeds  and  mud;  and  after  another  pause,  up 
comes  the  old  &ther  of  the  frogs,  and  begins 
^  again  with  the'  old  story — "Go  to  bed,  go  to 
bed,  go  to  bed,"  and  so  on.  During^^Wieat 
of  the  day,  the  bull-frogs  are  silent ;  biWS  the 
day  declines,  and  the  air  becomes  cooler,  they 
recommence  their  noisy  chorus.  -,. 

I  suppose  these  sounds,  though  not  very 
pleasant  to  the  ears  of  men,  may  not  be  so 
disagreeable  to  those  of  wild  animals.  I  dare 
say  neither  Nimble  nor  Silvy  were  in  the  least ' 
annoyed  by  the  hoarse  note  of  the  bull-frog; 
but  gambolled  as  merrily  among  the  boughs 
and  fresh  dewy  leaves,  as  if  they  were  listening 
to  sweet  music,  or  the  songs  of  the  birds. 

The  summer  passed  away  very  happily ;  but 
towards  the  dose  of  the  warm  season,  the  sqmt' 


Jim; 


'•  ,  -^   ^  ff,_^^. 


-    *iJk  ■  .!ts 


■Im 


'^iyT';^. 


r-i-:yir'.  t;^'-^^-?trs^i^mr^j:'-' ^'  -%?r!»V" 


iVitih, 
daab,  tbey 
growling, 
make  you 
ubbub  has 
pop,  and  a 
J  under  the 
r  pause,  up 
and  begins 
bed^  go  to 
leat- 
the 
cooler,  they 


:  bu^^B  t 


[h.  not  very 

not  be  80 
lals.    I  dare 

in  the  least  '| 
Le  bull-frog; 

the  boughs 
rere  listening 

le  birds. 

lappily ;  1>^* 
theaquii* 


mSTORY  OP  A  SQUIRREL  FAMILY.        97  * 

rels.  Nimble  and  Silvy,  resolved  to  make  a 
journey  to  the  rocky  island  on  Stony  lake,  to 
see  the  old  squirrels,  their  father  and  mother. 
So  they  started  at  sunrise  one  fine  pleasant  day, 
and  travelled  along,  till  one  cool  evening,  just 
as  the  moon  was  beginning  to  rise  above  the 
I  pine-trees,  they  arrived  at  the  little  rocky  islet 
where  they  first  saw  the  light;  but  when  they 
eagerly  ran  up  the  trunk  of  the  old  oak-tree, 
expecting  to  have  seen  their  old  father  and 
imotheiflpey  were  surprised  and  terrified  by 
[seeing  a  wood-owl  in  ike  nest 

As  soon  as  she  espied  our  little  squirrels,  she 
shook  her  feathers,  and  set  up  her  ears — for  she 

ras  a  long-eared  owl — and  ssdd,  "What  do  you 

?ant  here? — ^ho,  ho,  ho,  hoi" 
"Indeed,  Mrs.  Owl,"  said  Nimble,  "we  come 

lither  to  Bee  our  parents,  whom  we  left  here  a 

^ear  ago.    Can  you  tell  us  where  we  shall  find 

lem?" 

The  owl  peered  out  of  her  ruff  of  silken 
iithers,  find  after  wiping  her  sharp  bill  On  her 

^reast,  said,  "Your  ^usin  the  black  squirrel 

Ett  your  &1^er  a&d  aKytiier  out  of  their  tmt 
9  o 


^ 


^ 


#".«^. 


-.:» 


% 


.«;■»•  ^►^^..-■•J.;-;^,-V;a•5<*^'■W'^V.;T•■•^i;r.V^,;^^iV,;«:lj^!JJ,^r^^^  ?.  •    Vr-.-.-y^-.^^-.^r'-f ■ 


^mM 


T  ■<>r\ 


THE  CANADIAN  FOBEST. 


"^'"'■•"Xit 


'W. 


a  long  time  ago,  and  took  posession  of  the  tree 
and  all  that  was  in  it,  and  they  brought  up  a 
large  family  of  little  ones,  all  of  which  I 
pounced  upon  one  after  another,  and  ate. 
Indeed,  ♦he  oaks  here  belong  to  my  &mily ;  so 
finding  these  impudent  intruders  would  not 
quit  the  premises,  I  made  short  work  of  the 
matter,  and  took  the  law  into  my  own  handa" 

"Did  you  kill  them?"    asked  Silvy,  in  a| 
trembUng  voice. 

"  Of  course  I  did,  and  very  nice  l^psr  meati 
they  were,"  replied  the  horrid  old  owl,  begin| 
ning  to  scramble  out  of  the  nest,  and  eyeing 
squirrels  at  the  same  time  with  a  wicked  look! 

"But  you    did  not  eat  our  parents  toofl 
asked  the  trembling  squirrels. 

"Yes,  I  did;  they  were  very  tough,  to 
sure,  but  I  am  not  very  particular." 

The  grey  squirrels,  though  full  of  grief 
vain  regret,  were  obliged  to  take  care  of  theo 
selves.    There  was,  indeed,  no  time  to  be  Ic 
so   they  made   a  hasty  retreat.    They  cr 
.under  the  roots  of  an  old  tree,  where  they 
'till  the  morning;  they  were  not  much 


"B 


-;r^f- 


■^K. 

m 


m 


of  the  tree 
aught  up  a 
,f  which  I 
f    and   ate' 

J  vroiild  not 
work  of  tbj 
own  hands." 
.  Silvy,  ill  al 

ad  owl,  heginl 
and  eyeing  M 
a  wicked  lootl 
parents  tool 

tough,  to 


n 


mSTORT  OF  A  SQUIRREL  TAMILT.         99 

cemed  for  the  death  of  the  treacherous  black, 
squirrel  who  had  told  so  many  stories,  got 
possession  of  their  old  nest,  and  caused  the 
death  of  their  parents;  but  they  said — "We 
will  go  home  again  to  our  dear  old  hemlock- 
tree,  and  never  leave  it  more."  So  these  dear 
little  squirrels  returned  to  their  forest  home,, 
and  may  bo  living  there  yet. 


lar. 

of  grief 
te  caxe  of  tbi 

ime  to  be  Ic 
l^t.    They  ciel 
I  where  they 
Lot  much 


*Nuij4"  said  Mary,  "how  do  you  like  the 
i story ?"  :       .     *..  . 

Mrs.  Frazer  said  it  was  a  very  pretty  one. 
"Perhaps  my  dear  little  pet  is  one  of  Nimble 
lor  Silvy's  children.  You  know,  nurse,  they 
Imight  have  gone  on  their  travels  too  when  they 
[were  old  enough,  and  then  your  brother  may 
ive  chopped  down  the  tree  and  found  them  in 
le  forest." 

"But  your,  squirrel,  Mary,  is  a  flying  squir- 
rel, and  these  were  only  common  grey  ones, 
rhich  are   a  different   species.    Besides,   my 
fear,  this  history  is  but  a  fable." 
"I  suppose,  nurse,"  said  the  child,  looking 


v;-'- 


'  ■  %  ■ 


■Vli 


# 


1^- 


.T-S' 


i^- 


m 


* 


Mi  ■ 


100 


THE  OANADIAir  FOREST. 


up  in  her  xrazse's  &ce,  ^^squirrols  do  not  really 
talk." 

"No;  my  dear,  they  liave  not  the  use  of 
speech  as  we  have,  but  in  all  ages  people  have 
written  little  tales  called  fables,  in  which  they 
make  birds  and  boasts  speak  as  if  they  were 
men  and  women,  it  being  an  easy  method  of 
conveying  instructic^."   * 

"My  book  is  only  a  fable  then,  nurse?  I 
wish  it  had  been  true;  but  it  is  very  pretty." 


!     i 


#- 


Kfi 


^:.':V,^„»-pr 


w 


rj:-i-^ti 


>  not  really 

the  use  of 
people  have 
wMoli  tTiey 
f  they  "vrew 
J  method  of 

3n,  nurse?  I 
very  pretty." 


■r^^'^  SQUIRRELS. j^  ^0^' 


101 


<;. .   :',,.^.^;  ;•.    CHAPTER  VI.     j.i,  fj>,t-^ 

BQUIRRBL8 — THE  OHITMUNKS — DOCILITT  Ol"  A  PET  ONE 

— ROGUERY  OF  A  PEDLAR RETURN  OF  THE  MUSICAL 

CBITMUNK  TO  HIS  MASTEr's  BOSOM — BAOACITT  OF  A 
BLACK   SQUIRREL. 


-.<*^■^;^ 


*^ 


"Mrs.  Frazer,  are  you  very  busy  just  now?" 
asked  little  Mary,  coming  up  to  the  table  where 
her  nurse  was  ironing  some  lace. 

"No,  my  dear,  not  very  busy,  only  preparing 
these  lace  edgings  for  your  frocks.  Do  you 
want  me  to  do  any  thing  for  you?" 

"I  only  want  to  teU  you  that  my  governess 
has  promised  to  paint  my  dear  squirrel's  pic- 
ture, as  soon  as  it  is  tame,  and  will  let  me  hold 
it  in  my  lap,  without  flying  away.  I  saw  a  pic-  g 
ture  of  a  flying  squirrel  to-day,  but  it  was  very 
ugly — ^not  at  all  like  mine ;  it  was  long  and  flat, 
and  its  legs  looked  like  sticks,  and  it  was 
stretched  out,  just  like  one  of  those  muskrat 

skins  that  you  pointed  out  to  me  in  a  fur  store. 
9* 


yiffr 


m 


'*>! 


■%1 


jKMiiiijitmttiii 


»• 


102 


tHE  OAITADIAN  FOREST. 


Mamma  said  it  was  drawn  so,  to  show  it  wWle 
it  was  in  the  act  of  flying ;  but  it  is  not  pretty 
— ^it  does  not  show  its  beautiful  tail,  nor  its 
bright  eyes,  nor  soft  silky  fur.  I  heard  a  lady 
tell  mamma  about  a  nest  full  of  dear,  tiny  little 
flying  squirrels,  that  her  brother  once  ibuni^  in 
a  tree  in  the  forest;  he  tamed  them,  and  they 
lived  very  happily  together,  and  would  feed 
from  his  hand.  They  slept  i:n  the  cold  weather 
like  dormice;  in  the  day-time  they  lay  very 
still,  but  would  come  out,  and  gambol,  and 
frisk  about  at  night.  But  somebody  left  the 
cage  open,  and  they  all  ran  away  except  one, 
and  that  he  found  in  his  bed,  where  it  had  run 

p-  for  shelter,  with  its  little  nose  under  his  pillow. 
He  caught  the  little  fellow,  and  it  lived  with 
him  tiU  the  spring,  when  it  grew  restless,  and 
one  day  got  away,  and  went  off  to  the  woods.'' 

.:M^.  ^  ^*  These  little  creatures  are  impatient  of  con- 
finement, and  will  gnaw  through  the  woodwork 
^  of  th€i  cage  to  get  free,  especialtjr  in  the  spring 
of  the  year.  ■Doubtless,  my  dear,  they  pine  for 
the  liberty  which  t^ey  used  to  enjoy  before 
they  were  captured  by  mMi." 


t: 


^. 


fjv^^j^^ 


■TTFar**'-     -^  ,'^.■-•7  ■ 


-fli'j;-,  ..V,*  ■»';_::?y7 


^^n.cy^' 


,   V-     W' 


TLTtSfQ  SQCrSEtBlLS. 


166 


>^  it  wliile 
not  pretty 
lil,  nor  its 
jaxd  a  lady 
r,  tiny  little 
ce  f  QU134  in 
Q,  and  they 
would  feed 
jold  weather 
jy  lay  very 
orambol,  and 
ody  left  *^6 
except  one, 
•e  it  had  run 
r  his  pillow, 
^t  lived  with 
restless,  and 
the  woods." 
^tient  of  con- 
le  woodwork 
p  the  spring 
bhey  pine  for 
>njoy  hefoie 


**NiirBe,  I  will  sot  let  my  litde  pet  be  vmr 
happy.  As  soon  as  the  waim  days  oome  again, 
and  mj  governess  has  taken  his  picture,  I  wiM 
let  him  go  free.  Are  there  many  squirrels  in 
this  part  of  Canada  ?** 

"Not  so  many  as  m  Upper  Oonada.  "They 
abound  more  in  some  years  than  in  o^ers.  I 
have  seen  the  beeoh  and  oak  woods  swarm- 
ing with  black  squirrels.  My  brothers  have 
brought  m  two  or  three  dozen  in  one  day. 
The  Indians  used  to  tell  us  that  want  of  food) 
or  very  severe  weather  setting  in,  in  the  north, 
drives  these  yttle  aniwiJn  fix>m  ^tkeax  haunts. 
The  Indians,  who  observe  these  things  more 
than  we  do,  can  generally  tell  what  sort  of 
winter  it  will  be,  from  the  numb^  of  wild 
animals  in  the  fall.*' 

**What  do  you  mean  by  the  fall,  nurse?' 

''The  autumn  in  Canada,  my  dear,  is  called 
so  fixHn  the  fall  of  the  leaves.  I  remember  one 
year  was  remarkable  for  the  great  number  of 
black,  grey,  and  flying  squirrels;  the  little 
striped  ehitmunk  was  ate  plentiful,  and  so 
were  weasels  and  foxes.    They  ciune  into  the 


#i*' 


% 


^%*~ 


.^• 


'A.. 


^^w 


'"-W 


m 


^Mf 


104 


THE  CANADIAN  f  0BE8T. 


bams  and  granaries,  and  into  the  houses,  and 
destroyed  great  quantities  of  grain;  besides 
gnawing  clothes  that  were  laid  out  to  dry }  this 
they  did  to  line  their  nests  with.  Next  year 
there  were  very  few  to  be  seen."  '  •  -  ;  • 
"What  became  of  them,  nurse?" 
"Some,  no  doubt,  fell  a  prey  to  their  ene- 
mies, the  cats,  foxes,  and  weasels,  which  were 
also  very  numerous  that  year;  and  the  rest, 
perhaps,    went   back    to   their   own   country 


again 


»j 


><irjv':  I. 


"  I  should  like  to  see  a  great  number  of  these 
pretty  creatures  travelling  together,"  said  Mary, 
"  All  wild  animals,  my  dear,  are  more  active 
by  night  than  by  day,  and  probably  make  their 
long  journeys  during  that  season.  The  eyes  of 
many  animals  and  birds  are  so  formed,  thai 
they  see  best  in  the  dim  twilight,  as  cats^  and 
j^  owls,  and  others.  Our  heavenly  Father  has 
fitted  all  his  creatures  for  the  st^te  in  which  he 
%   has  placed  them." 

"  Can  squirrels  swim  like  otters  and  beavers, 
nurse?  If  they  come  to  a  lake  or  river,  can 
they  cross  it?"  r         v-    -, 


f' 


■''.'     „'.^S'>,~'i"ii^»'' 


ri'-'^.T" 


;  i 


51  Tivcr,  can 


'tsS>  ;v 


SQUIRRELS. 


lOft 


■  ■'*. 


"  I  think  they  caa,  Mary ;  for  though  thesa 
creatures  are  not  formed  like  the  otter,  or 
beaver,  or  muskrat,  to  get  their  living  in  the 
water,  they  are  able  to  swim  when  necessity  re- 
quires them  to  do  sa  I  heard  a  lady  say  that 
she  was  crossing  a  lake,  between  one  of  the 
islands  and  the  shore,  in  a  canoe,  with  a  baby 
on  her  lap.  She  noticed  a  movement  on  the 
surface  of  the  water.  At  first  she  thought  it 
might  be  a  water  snake,  but  the  servant  lad 
who  was  paddling  the  canoe,  said  it  was  a  red 
squirrel,  and  he  tried  to  strike  it  with  the  pad- 
dle; but  the  little  squirrel  leaped  out  of  the 
water  to  the  blade  of  the  paddle,  and  sprang 
on  the  head  of  the  baby,  as  it  lay  on  her  lap; 
from  whence  it  jumped  to  her  shoulder,  and 
before  she  had  recovered  j&om  her  surprise,  was 
in  the  water  again,  swimming  straight  for  (ht 
^ore,  where  it  waa  soon  safe  in  ^e  dark  pina 
woods." 

This  feat  <d  the  squirrd  delighted  Mary,  who 
expressed  her  joy  at  the  bravery  of  the  littld 
creature.  Besides,  she  Baid  she  had  heard  thdt 
grey  squirzsek,  when  they  wished  to  go  to  la  dift- 


M-*^ 


# 


i 


,,  :!?&', -i,,,." 


?f.' 


,  >4.-_«'l,:K^Aw,>i!ii 


:pf  i     1 


r^ir 


%■ 


:,'^'!-, 


'■y.'' 


#; 


106 


THE  OAITADIAir  FOREST. 


tanoe  in  search  of  food,  would  all  meet  together, 
and  collect  pieces  of  bark  to  serve  them  for 
boats,  and  would  set  up  their  broad  tails  like 
sails,  to  catch  the  wind,  and  in  this  way  cross 
large  sheets  of  water.  '      ' 

"  I  do  not  think  this  can  be  true,"  observed 
Mrs.  Fraser;  "for  the  squirrel,  when  swim 
ming,  uses  his  tail  as  an  oar  or  rudder  to  help 
the  motion,  the  tail  lying  fiat  on  the  surface  of 
the  water ;  nor  do  these  creatures  need  a  boat, 
for  God,  who  made  them,  bas  given  them  the 
power  of  swimming  at  their  need."  *      i 

"  Nurse,  you  said  something  about  a  ground 
squirrel,  and  called  it  a  chitmunk.  K  you 
please,  will  you  tell  me  something  about  it,  and 
why  it  is  called  by  such  a  curious  name?" 

"  I  believe  it  is  the  Indian  name  for  this  sort 
of  squirrel,  my  dear.  The  chitmunk  is  not  so 
large  as  the  black,  red,  or  grey  squirrels.  It  is 
marked  along  the  brck  with  black  rxvA  v*  ^^^te 
stripes ;  the  rest  of  its  fur  is  a  yelluvviaii  tawny 
colour.  Jt  is  a  very  pla,yful,  lively,  cleanly 
animal,  somewhat  resembling  the  dormouse  in 
i>£  Jic.bits-    It  burrows  under  ground.    Its  nest 


:.:^.;m 


iS^!;.i;'iw,  : 


••^    ' 


ri:\- 


THB  0HITMUNl8i^> 


107 


0 


is  made  with  great  oare,  with  many  gallericB 
which  oi)on  at  the  sur&oe,  bo  that  when  at- 
tacked by  an  enemy,  it  can  run  from  one  to 
another  for  security."*    ■'Sn^.u^  •♦'(;•> ^Vifr:-  /vM^^f^r 

**  ilij?,'  w.  .u  of  these  little  ohitmunks  to  think 
of  thii"^ !"  said  Mary. 

"  Nay,  my  dear  child,  it  is  Gkni's  wisdom,  not 
theirs.  These  creatures  work  according  to  His 
will ;  and  so  they  always  do  what  is  fittest  and 
best  for  their  own  comfort  and  safety.  Man  is 
the  only  one  of  God's  creatures  who  disobeys 

Him."        ■     v'    ..^'^^'^'^X  i:  -r^y   ^:r^'Yj,i:p:ij^ri.^!,4':fi'l.':^'m^ 

These  words  made  Mary  look  grave,  till  her 
nurse  began  to  talk  to  her  again  about  the  chit- 

"It  is  very  easily  tamed,  and  becomes  veiy 


m. 


•'*, 


^ 


*  Hie  iquirrel  hu  many  enemies ;  all  the  weasel  tribe, 
cats,  and  even  doga^  attack  them.  Cats  kill  great  nuubers 
of  the^A  Uttle  animaok  The  farmer  shows  them  as  little 
jeroy  as  he  does  rats  and  mice,  as  they  are  very  destmotiye, 
and  carry  o£F  vast  quantities  of  grain,  which  they  store  in 
hollow  trees  for  use.  Not  contenting  themselves  with  one 
granary,  they  have  we^al  in  case  ooe  should  fail  or  per- 
haps become  injured  by  accidental  causes.  Thus  do  these 
simple  little  creatures  t^ach  us  a  lesson  of  providential  oara 
for  ftttora  eyentb 


%■■ 


.^ 


'■~m, 


.•i"*^ 
^i*^" 


■  '1 


;S:;i'ii%^ 


M&^ 


* 


I 

' 

/"^ 

1,     ''  '      " 

a-..' 

']: 

m 


THB  OASmiASX  FOBEST. 


"■-.;i^v 


■;*il? 


'-'^ 


foaad  of  ItB  mastes*.  It  will  ohetj  bift  voioe^  erase 
ftt  a  oap  or  a  wkietlei  tit  n-p  aiid  beg^  take  a  nut 
or  an  aoom  out  c^  his  haod^  run  up  a  stick, 
nestle  in  bis  bosom,  and  beeotae  quite  &lm!^ia7. 
My  uncle  bad  a  tame  cbitmlink  tbat  wad  much 
attached  to  him ;  i%^lpid^  ill  hib  |»ocket  or 
bosom ;  it  was  his  oomp{^on  by  day  atid  by 
sight  When  he  was  out  in  l^e  fevest  lumber- 
ing, or  on  the  lake  iishing^  cr  m  the  fields  at 
wprk^  it  WBB  always  with  Mm.  At  ni^eals  it  sat 
by  the  side  of  his  plate,  eatilig  what  he  gave  it; 
btit  he  did  not  give  it  meat,  as  he  thought  that 
|pdght  injure  its  health.  One  day  he  and  his 
fiet  were  in  the  steamboat^  -goiag  to  Toronto. 
He  had  been  showing  off  the  little  chitmunk's 
tndka  to  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  on  board  the 
boat,  and  several  persons  offered  him  money  if 
he  would  sell  it ;  but  my  uncle  was  f(»id  of  the 
little  thing,  and  would  not  part  With  it.  How* 
eyei^  just  before  he  left  the  boat,  he  missed  his 
p^t ;  for  a  cuiming  pedlar  oh  board  had  stolen 
it.  My  uncle  knew  that  his  little  fiiend  would 
Hdt  deSi^ft  its  old  master ;  so  he  Went  On  deck 
where  Ihe  passengers  were   assembled,  and 


,^4 


;S:  :;■  ,' 


.M^ 


TAME  CHmtDlfK.  jq« 

trtoled  a  popular  tune  femaiar  fe,  fl.      .- 
mvnk.    The  little  Mow  onT  '^'• 

out  of  the  pedlar'«  p^L  "'7°^  ^"^  ^^^^^ 

a-on.  a  raihn,  a,aiL:tLrh::rrr^ 

- -gHt  refuse  in  hi.. a^ter'wf"^' 

Mary  clapped  her  hands  with  •  . 

"I  am  so  glad  „„  J  !f  •'°^'  *"<*  ^M 

that  pedlar's  finge:^"  '''''^  '*  ^^  '''''«'' 

I  /T''®''  *°«'^'  *'•«««  creatures  will  K,v 
rf-arply,  set  np  their  taik  »„T  ^  ""^'^ 

^^-kealtteir^oisew.Ttr"''^' 

Tlie  red  squirrel  .'«  f  ^^^"^  *^^t^- 

-Win  soir j;;7i:r.r/^  ^^^' 

H«Pit«  tail,  and  scold.  Cj^r  •^°"' 
busy  eating  the  seeds  of  thetl  ^  '  "'^° 
of  which  they  are  very  2'!?;^  "  "'^"^ 

P  --H  the.  x:t\:2;j-  r  "^ 

la^av.    Whp«  T,^     XI    .  "^^"ipting  to  run 

K^  thi  nesHM       ''"^""'  ^-^  *^«  *^- 

K-^'-i^adogrn^a^^tr:;:;"^ 

N  aDj  as  soon  ««  fi.  ^     ^®  ^^^  a 

j^  *uiu  sooid,  as  long  as  he 


110 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


remains  in  sight.  When  liard  pressed,  the 
black  and  flying  squirrels  will  take  prodigious 
leaps,  springing  from  bough  to  bough,  and  from 
tree  to  tree.  In  this  manner  they  baffle  the 
hunters,  and  travel  a  great  distance  over  the 
tops  of  the  trees.  Once  I  saw  my  uncle  and 
brothers  chasing  a  large  black  squirrel.  He 
kept  out  of  reach  of  the  dogs,  as  well  as  out  of 
sight  of  the  men,  by  passing  round  and  round 
the  tree  as  he  went  up,  so  that  they  could  never 
get  a  fair  shot  at  him.  At  last  they  got  so 
provoked  that  they  took  their  axes,  and  set  to 
work  to  chop  down  the  tree.  It  was  a  large 
pine-tree,  and  took  them  some  time.  Just 
the  tree  was  ready  to  fall,  and  was  wavering  to  I 
and  fro,  the  squirrel,  who  had  kept  on  the  top- 1 
most  bough,  sprang  nimbly  to  the  next  tree, 
and  then  to  another,  and  by  the  time  the  great  I 
pine  had  reached  the  ground,  the  squirrel  was 
far  away  in  his  nest  among  his  little  ones,  safe| 
from  hunters,  guns,  and  dogs." 

"The  black  squirrel  must  have  wondered,] 
I  think,  nurse,  why  so  many  men  and  do 
tried  to  kill  such  a  little  creature  as  he  wa&l 


BLACK  SQUIRRELS. 


Ill 


pressed,  the 

:e  prodigious 

gb,  and  from 

ey  baffle  the 

nee  over  the 

ay  uncle  and 

squirrel.     He 

well  as  out  of 

Qd  and  round 

iy  could  never 

3t  they  got  so 

xes,  and  set  to 

;t  was  a  large 

;ime.     Jnst  as 

wavering  to 

>pt  on  the  top- 1 

ithe  next  tree, 

time  the  great  I 

lc  squirrel  was 

ittle  ones,  safe 

ive  wondered, 
len  and  dogs 
re  as  he  wa&l 


Do  the  black  squirrels  sleep  in  the  winter  as 
well  as  the  flying  squirrels  and  chitmunks?" 

"  No,  Mary ;  I  have  often  seen  them  on  bright 
days  chasing  each  other  over  logs  and  brush 
heaps,  and  running  gaily  up  the  pine-trees. 
They  are  easily  seen  from,  the  contrast  which 
their  jetty  black  coats  make  with  the  sparkling 
white  snow.  These  creatures  feed  a  good  deal 
OIL  the  kernels  of  the  pines  and  hemlocks; 
they  also  eat  the  buds  of  some  trees.  They 
lay  up  great  stores  of  nuts  and  grain  for  win- 
ter use.  The  flying  squirrels  sleep  much,  and 
in  the  cold  season  lie  heaped  upon  each  other, 
for  the  sake  of  warmth.  As  many  as  seven  or 
eight  may  be  found  in  one  nest  asleep.  They 
sometimes  awaken,  if  there  come  a  succession 
of  warm  days,  as  in  the  January  thaw ;  for  I 
must  tell  you  that  in  this  country  we  generally 
have  rain  and  mild  weather  for  a  few  days  in 
the  beginning  of  January,  when  the  snow 
nearly  disappears  from  the  ground.  About  the 
I2th,*  the  weather  sets  in  again  steadily  cold ; 

'*  This  remark  applies  more  particularly  to  the  Upper 
Province. 


112 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


when  the  little  animals  retire  once  more  to 
sleep  in  their  winter  cradles,  which  they  rarely 
leave  till  the  hard  weather  is  over." 

"  I  suppose,  nurse,  when  they  awake,  they  are 
glad  to  eat  some  of  the  food  they  have  laid  up 
in  their  granaries  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  it  is  for  this  they  gather  their 
hoards  in  mild  weather;  which  also  support 
them  in  the  spring  months,  and  possibly  even 
during  the  summer,  till  grain  and  fruit  are  ripe. 
I  was  walking  in  the  harvest  field  one  day, 
where  my  brothers  were  cradling  wheat.  As  I 
passed  along  the  fence,  I  noticed  a  great  many 
little  heaps  of  wheat  lying  here'  and  there  on  the 
rails,  also  upon  the  tops  cf  the  stumps  in  the 
field.  I  wondered  at  first  who  could  have 
placed  them  there,  but  presently  noticed  a  num- 
ber of  red  squirrels  running  very  swiftly  along 
the  fence,  and  perceived  that  they  emptied  their 
mouths  of  a  quantity  of  the  new  wheat,  which 
they  had  been  diligently  employed  in  collecting 
from  the  ears  that  lay  scattered  over  the  ground. 
These  little  gleaners  did  not  seem  to  be  at  all 
alarmed  at  my  presence,  but  went  to  and  fro  as 


'■?S5S' 


'S; 


^w 


SQUIRREL  GLEANINGS. 


118 


36  more  to 
they  rarely 

ike,  they  are 
lave  laid  up 

gather  their 
also  support 
lossibly  even 
Eruit  are  ripe, 
eld  one  day, 
wheat.    As  I 
i  great  many 
1  there  on  the 
tumps  in  the 
could  have 
ticed  a  nura- 
iwiftly  along 
smptied  their 
•heat,  which 
in  collecting 
the  ground, 
to  be  at  all 
to  and  fro  as 


busy  as  bees.  On  taking  some  of  the  grains  into 
my  hand,  I  noticed  that  the  germ  or  eye  of  the 
kernels  was  bitten  clean  out." 

"  What  was  that  for,  nurse  ?  can  you  tell  me  ?" 
"My  dear  young  lady,  I  did  not  know  at 
first,  till,  upon  showing  it  to  my  father,  he  told 
me  that  the  squirrels  destroyed  the  germ  of  the 
grain,  such  as  wheat  or  Indian  com,  that  they 
stored  up  for  winter  use,  that  it  might  not  sprout 
when  buried  in  thf.  ground  or  in  a  hollow  tree." 
'  "  This  is  very  ttrange,  nurse,"  said  the  little 
girl.  "  But  I  suppose,"  she  added,  after  a  mo- 
ment's thought,  "it  was  God  who  taught  the 
squirrels  to  do  so.  But  why  would  biting  out 
the  eye  prevent  the  grain  from  growing?" 

"  Because  the  eye  or  bud  contains  the  life  of 
the  plant ;  from  it  springs  the  green  blade,  and 
the  stem  that  bears  the  ear,  ai^dthe  root  that 
strikes  down  to  the  earth.  The  flowery  part, 
which  swells  and  becomes  soft  and  jelly-like, 
serves  to  nourish  the  young  plant  till  the  ten- 
der fibres  of  the  roots  are  able  to  draw  moisture 
from  the  ground." 

Mary  asked  if  all  seeds  had  an  eye  or  germ. 
10*  H 


■^p-- 


114 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


Her  nurse  replied  that  all  had,  though  some 
were  so  minute  that  they  looked  no  bigger  than 
dust,  or  a  grain  of  sand ;  yet  each  was  perfect 
in  its  kind,  and  contained  the  plant  that  would, 
when  sown  in  the  earth,  bring  forth  roots,  leaves, 
buds,  flowers,  and  fruits  in  due  season. 

*'  How  glad  I  should  have  been  to  see  the 
little  squirrels  gleaning  the  wheat,  and  laying  it 
in  the  little  heaps  on  the  rail  fence.  Why  did 
they  not  carr/  it  at  once  to  their  nests  ?" 

"  They  laid  it  out  in  the  sun  and  wind  to  dry ; 
for  if  it  had  been  stored  away  while  damp,  it 
would  have  moulded,  and  have  been  spoiled. 
The  squirrels  were  busy  all  that  day ;  when  I 
went  to  see  them  again,  the  grain  was  gone.  I 
saw  several  red  squirrels  running  up  and  down 
R  large  pine-tree,  which  had  been  broken  by  the 
wind  at  the  top ;  and  there,  no  doubt,  they  had 
laid  up  stores.  These  squirrels  did  not  follow 
each  other  in  a  straight  line,  but  ran  round  and 
round  in  a  spiral  direction,  so  that  they  never 
hindered  each  other,  nor  came  in  each  other's 
way :  two  were  always  going  up,  while  the  other 
two  were  going  down.    They  seem  to  work  in 


SQUIRRELS. 


116 


)tigTi  some 
>igger  than 
vas  perfect 
ibat  would, 
x)ts,  leaves, 

n. 

to  see  tlie 
ad  laying  it 
,    Why  did 

5tS?" 

ATindtodry; 
die  damp,  it 
len  spoiled. 
iay ;  when  I 
as  gone.    I 
ip  and  down 
'oken  by  the 
►t,  they  had 
not  follow 
round  and 
they  never 
leach  other's 
lile  the  other 
to  work  in 


families ;  for  the  young  ones,  though  old  enough 
to  get  their  own  living,  usually  inhabit  the  same 
nest,  and  help  to  store  up  the  grain  for  winter 
use.    They  all  separate  again  in  spring.     The 
little  chitmunk  does  not  live  in  trees,  but  bur- 
rows in  the  ground,  or  makes  its  nest  in  some 
large  hollow  log.     It  is  very  pretty  to  see  the 
little  chitmunks,  on  a  warm  spring  day,  running 
about  and  chasing  each  other  among  the  moss 
and  leaves ;  they  are  not  bigger  than  mice,  but 
look  bright  and  lively.    The  fur  of  all  the  squir- 
rel tribe  is  used  in  trimming,  but  the  grey  is  the 
best  and  most  valuable.     It  has  often  been  re- 
marked by  the  Indians,  and  others,  that  the  red 
and  black  squirrels  never  live  in  the  same  place ; 
for  the  red,  though  the  smallest,  beat  away  the 
black  ones.     The  flesh  of  the  black  squirrel  is 
very  good  to  eat ;  the  Indians  also  eat  the  red." 
Mary  was  very  glad  to  hear  all  these  things, 
and  quite  forgot  to  play  with  her  doll.    "  Please, 
Mrs.  Frazer,"  said  the  little  lady,  "  tell  me  no^/" 
about  beavers  and  muskrats."    But  Mrs.  Frazer 
was  obhged  to  go  out  on  business ;  she  prom- 
ised, however,  to  tell  Mary  all  she  knew  about 
these  animals  another  day. 


l;^ 


#. 


.^ITWTt" 


116 


THE  CANADIAN  TOREST. 


CHAPTEB  VII. 


INDIAN  BASKETS  —  THRE  ADPLANT8 MAPLES  UOAR. 

TREE INDIAN  .ORNAMENTAL  WORKS RACCOONS. 

TT  was  some  time  before  Mary's  nurse  could 
-^  toll  her  any  more  stories.  She  received  a  letter 
from  her  sister-in-law,  informing  her  that  her 
brother  was  dangerously  ill,  confined  to  what 
was  feared  would  prove  his  deathbed,  and  that 
he  earnestly  desired  to  see  her  before  he  died. 
Mary's  mother,  who  was  very  kind  and  good  to 
all  her  household,  readily  consented  to  let  Mrs. 
Frazer  go  to  her  sick  relation. 

Mary  parted  from  her  dear  nurse,  whom  she 
loved  very  tenderly,  with  much  regret.  Mrs. 
Frazer  told  her  that  it  might  be  a  fortnight  be- 
fore she  could  retuni,  as  her  brother  lived  on 
the  shores  of  one  of  the  small  lakes,  near  the 
head  watf  rs  of  the  Otonabee  river,  a  great  way 
off;  but  she  promised  to  return  as  soon  as  she 
could,  and  to  console  her  young  mistress  for 


A  KIND  LITTLE  GIRL. 


117 


her  absence,  said  she  would  bring  her  some 
Indian  toys  from  the  backwoods. 

The  month  of  March  passed  away  pleasantly, 
for  Mary  enjoyed  many  delightful  sleigh-drives 
with  her  papa  and  mamma,  who  took  every  op- 
portunity to  instruct  and  amuse  her.  On  enter- 
ing her  nursery  one  day,  after  enjoying  a  long 
drive  in  the  country,  great  was  her  joy  to  find 
her  good  nurse  sitting  quietly  at  work  by  the 
stove.  She  was  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  and 
looked  much  paler  and  thinner  than  when  she 
had  last  seen  her. 

The  kind  little  girl  knew,  when  she  saw  her 
nurse's  black  dress,  that  her  brother  must  be 
dead;  and  with  the  thoughtfuiness  of  a  true 
lady,  remained  very  quiet,  and  did  not  annoy 
her  with  questions  about  trifling  matters ;  she 
spoke  low  and  gently  to  her,  and  tried  to  com- 
fort her  when  she  saw  large  tears  falling  on  the 
work  which  she  held  in  her  hand,  and  kindly 
said,  "Mrs.  Frazer,  you  had  better  go  and  lie 
down  and  rest  yourself,  for  you  must  be  tired 
after  your  long,  long  journey." 

The  next  day  Mrs.  Frazer  seemed  to  be  much 


118 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


better ;  and  she  showed  Mary  an  Indian  basket, 
made  of  birch-bark,  very  richly  wrought  with 
coloured  porcupine-quills,  and  which  had  two 
lids. 

Mary  admired  the  splendid  colours,  and 
strange  patterns  on  the  basket. 

"It  is  for  you,  my  dear,"  said  her  nurse, 
"open  it,  and  see  what  is  in  it."  Mary  lifbed 
one  of  the  lids,  and  took  out  another  small 
basket,  of  a  different  shape  and  pattern.  It 
had  a  top,  which  was  sewn  down  with  coarse- 
looking  thread,  which  her  nurse  told  her  was 
nothing  but  the  sinews  of  the  deer,  dried 
and  beaten  fine,  and  drawn  out  like  thread. 
Then,  taking  an  end  of  it  in  her  hand,  she 
made  Mary  observe  that  these  coarse  threads 
could  be  separated  into  a  great  number  of  finer 
ones,  sufficiently  delicate  to  pass  through  the 
eye  of  a  fine  needle,  or  to  string  tiny  beads. 

"  The  Indians,  my  dear,  sew  with  the  sinews 
of  the  wild  animals  they  kill.  These  sinews 
are  much  stronger  and  tougher  than  thread, 
and  therefore  are  well  adapted  to  sew  together 
such  things  as  moccasins,  leggings,  and  gar- 


'.A-.\,i^Z. 


INDIAN  THREAD. 


119 


ian  basket, 
ought  with 
h  had  two 

dIouts,   and 

her  nurse, 
Mary  lifted 
lother  small 
pattern.     It 
with  coarse- 
iold  her  was 
I  deer,   dried 
like  thread. 
T  hand,  she 
*arse  threads 
aber  of  finer 
through  the 
y  beads. 

the  sinews 
hese  sinews 
than  thread, 
Isew  together 
rs,  and  gar- 


ments made  of  the  skins  of  wild  animals.  The 
finer  threads  are  used  for  sewing  the  beads  and 
quill  ornaments  on  moccasins,  sheaths,  and 
pouches,  besides  other  things  that  I  cannot  now 
think  of." 

"They  sew  some  things  with  the  roots  of 
the  tamarack,  or  larch;  such  as  coarse  birch- 
baskets,  bark  canoes,  and  the  covering  of  their 
wigwams.  They  call  this  *wah-tap,'*  (wood- 
thread,)  and  they  prepare  it  by  pulling  off  the 
outer  rind  and  steeping  it  in  water.  It  is  the 
larger  fibres  which  have  the  appearance  of 
small  cordage  when  coiled  up  and  fit  for  use. 
This  'wah-tap'  is  very  valuable  to  these  poor 
Indians.  There  is  also  another  plant,  called 
Indian  hemp,  which  is  a  small  shrubby  kind  of 
milk-weed,  that  grows  on  gravelly  islands.  It 
bears  white  flowers  and  the  branches  are  long 
and  slender;  under  the  bark  there  is  a  fine 
silky  thread  covering  the  wood ;  this  is  tough, 
and  can  be  twisted  and  spun  into  cloth.  It  ia 
very  white  and  fine,  and  does  not  easily  break. 

*  Asclepia  parriflora. 


^w    'y.a 


120 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


!        4. 


There  are  other  plants  of  the  flame  family,  with 
pods  full  of  fine  shining  silk ;  but  these  are  too 
brittle  to  spin  into  thread.  This  last  kind, 
Mary,  which  is  called  Milk- weed  flytrap,  I  will 
show  you  in  summer."* 

But  while  Mi's,  i'razer  was  talking  about  these 
plants,  the  little  lady  was  examining  the  contents 
of  the  small  birch-box.  "  If  you  please,  nurse, 
will  yo'!  tell  me  what  these  dark,  shining  seeds 
are  ?" 

"  These  seeds,  my  dear,  are  Indian  rice ;  an 
old  squaw,  Mrs.  Peter  Noggan,  gave  me  this  as 
a  present  for  *  The  lit'-l'^  Iiady,'  "  and  Mrs.  Fra- 
zer  imitated  the  soft,  whining  tone  of  the  Indian, 
which  made  Mary  laugh. 

"The  box  is  called  a  'mowkowk.*    There j 
is  another  just  like  it,  only  there  is  a  white  j 
bird, — &  snow-bird,  I  suppose  it  is  intended  for 
— worked  on  the  lid."     The  lid  of  this  box  was  | 
fastened  down  with  a  narrow  slip  of  deer-skin ; 
Mary  cut  the  fastening,  and  raised  the  lid,— 
"Nurse,  it  is  only  yellow  sand;  how  droll,  to| 
send  me  a  box  of  sand  I" 

*  Aflolepift  SyriMa. 


INDIAN   PRESENTS. 


121 


imily,  with 

lese  are  too 

last   kind, 

trap,  I  will 

;  about  these 
the  contents 
lease,  nurse, 
ihining  seeds 

ian  rice;  an 
ve  me  this  as 
Lnd  Mrs.  Fra- 
)f  the  Indian, 

)wk;  There  I 
e  is  a  white] 
intended  for' 
this  box  was  I 
>f  deer-skin; I 
,d  tbe  lid,- 
low  droll,  to 


"  It  is  not  sand ;  taste  it,  Mary." 

"  It  is  sweet — it  is  sugar  I  Ah  !  now  I  know 
what  it  is  that  this  kind  old  squaw  has  sent  me ; 
it  is  maple-sugar ;  and  is  very  nice.  I  will  go 
and  show  it  to  mamma." 

"  Wait  a  little,  Mary,  let  us  see  what  there  is 
in  the  basket  besides  the  rice  and  the  maple- 
sugar." 

"  What  a  lovely  thing  this  is  I  dear  nurse, 
what  can  it  be  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  sheath  for  your  scissors,  my  dear ;  it 
is  made  of  doe-skin,  embroidered  with  white 
beads,  and  coloured  quills  split  fine,  and  sewn 
with  deer-sinew  thread.  Look  at  these  curious 
hracelets." 

Mary  examined  the  bracelets,  and  said  she 

thought  they  were  wroughb  with  beads  ;   but 

Mrs.  Frazer  told  her  that  what  she  took  for 

beads  were  porcupine  quills,  cut  out  very  finely, 

and  strung  in  a  pattern.     They, were  not  only 

neatly  but  tastefully  made ;  the  pattern,  though 

a  Grecian  scroll,  having  been  carefully  imitated 

by  some  Indian  squaw. 

"This    embroidered    knife-sheath    is    large 
11 


» - 


\.--;.>.u.  .i^%^-^.\^ 


122 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


(C 


enough  for  a  hunting-knife,"  said  Mary,  "a 
^couteau  de  chasse,'' — is  it  not?" 

"This  sheath  was  worked  by  the  wife  of 
Isaac  Iron,  an  educated  chief  of  the  Mud  Lake 
Indians ;  she  gave  it  to  me  because  I  had  been 
kind  to  her  in  sickness." 

"  I  will  give  it  to  my  dear  papa,"  said  Mary, 
"  for  I  never  go  out  hunting,  and  do  not  wish  to 
carry  a  large  knife  by  my  side  ;"  and  she  laid 
the  sheath  away,  after  having  admired  its  gay 
colours,  and  particularly  the  figure  of  a  little 
animal  worked  in  black  and  white  quills,  which 
was  intended  to  represent  a  raccoon. 

"  This  is  a  present  for  your  doll ;  it  is  a  doll's 
mat,  woven  by  a  little  girl,  aged  seven  years, 
Rachel  Muskrat ;  and  here  is  a  little  canoe  of 
red  cedar,  made  by  a  little  Indian  boy." 

"  What  a  darling  little  boat,  and  there  is  a 
fish  carved  on  the  paddles."  This  device  greatly 
pleased  Mary,  who  said  she  would  send  Rachel  a 
wax  doll,  and  little  Moses  a  knife,  or  some  other 
useful  article,  when  Mrs.  Frazer  went  again  to 
the  Lakes ;  but  when  her  nurse  took  out  of  the 
other  end  of  the  basket  a  birch-bark  cradle,  made 


MAPLE  SUGAR. 


123 


^ary,   "a 

1  wife  of 
^ud  Lake 
:  had  been 

said  Mary, 
aot  wish  to 
id  she  laid 
red  its  gay 
of  a  little 
aills,  which 


for  her  doll,  worked  veiy  richly,  she  clapped  her 
hands  for  joy,  saying,  "  Ah,  nurse,  yon  should 
not  have  brought  me  so  many  pretty  things  at 
once,  for  I  am  too  happy !" 

The  remaining  contents  of  the  basket  con- 
sisted of  seeds  and  berries,  and  a  small  cake  of 
maple-sugar,  which  Mrs.  Frazer  had  made  for 
the  young  lady.  This  was  very  different  in  ap- 
pearance from  the  Indian  sugar ;  it  was  bright 
and  sparkling,  like  sugar-candy,  and  tasted 
sweeter.  The  other  sugar  was  dry,  and  slightly 
bitter :  Mrs.  Frazer  told  Mary  that  this  peculiar 
taste  was  caused  by  the  birch-bark  vessels, 
which  the  Indians  used  for  catching  the  sap  as 
it  flowed  from  the  maple-trees. 

"I  wonder  who  taught  the  Indians  how  to 
make  maple-sugar?"  asked  the  child. 

"  I  do  not  know ;"  replied  the  nurse.  "  I  have 
heard  that  they  knew  how  to  make  this  sugar 
when  the  discoverers  of  the  country  found  them.* 
It  may  be  that  they  found  it  out  by  accident. 
The  sugar-maple  when  wounded  in  March  and 


*  However  this  may  be,  the  French  settlers  claim  the 
merit  of  converting  the  sap  into  sugar. 


I  I 


n 


124 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


April,  yields  a  great  deal  of  sweet  liquor.  Some 
Indians  may  have  supplied  themselves  with  this 
juice,  when  pressed  for  want  of  water;  for  it 
flows  so  freely  in  warm  days  in  spring,  that 
several  pints  can  be  obtained  from  one  tree  in 
the  course  of  the  day.  By  boiling  this  juice, 
it  becomes  very  sweet;  and  at  last,  when  all 
the  thin  watery  part  has  gone  off  in  steam,  it 
becomes  thick,  like  honey;  by  boiling  it  still 
longer,  it  turns  to  sugar,  when  cold.  So  you 
see,  my  dear,  that  the  Indians  may  have  found 
it  out  by  boiling  some  sap,  instead  of  water,  and 
letting  it  remain  on  the  fire  till  it  grew  thick." 

"Are  there  many  kinds  of  maple-trees,  that 
sugar  can  bo  made  from,  nurse?"  asked  the 
little  girl. 

"Yes,^  my  dear;  but  I  believe  the-  sugar- 
maple  yields  the  best  sap  for  the  purpose ;  that 
of  the  birch-tree,  I  have  heard,  can  be  made 
into  sugar ;  but  it  would  require  a  larger  quan- 
tity; weak  wine,  or  vinegar,  is  made  by  the 
settlers  of  birch-sap,   which  is  very  pleasant 

*  All  the  maple  tribe  are  of  a  saccharine  nature.    Sugar 
has  been  made  in  England  from  the  sap  of  the  sycamore. 


MAPLE  TREES.  loer 

;on,  she  told  her,  would  i;e^/r.'"~- 
b«'  tf  it  continued  to  tCnt  ""''  ^^'^ ' 
turned  sour  and  h.  ^  «^^*  <J«aI,  it  ■ 

ow,  and  became  vinegar. 

Jlowr  very  useful  the  manlo  f«    • 
I  wish  there  wpr»         ,     "^ap^e-tree  is,  n-wset 

Mrs.  Prazer  laughed,  and  said -"The         . 
fflakes   excellent   fuel-    h„f    •       ,  "^"""^ 

■making  bedsteads  chests  oJ  dr!  "''''   '" 

other  things.     There  I  ''''■''  ""'^  «««^ 

furniture,  ^Ued  '  bid  ^'^  ^^''"^  ^°°'J  «>' 

n*        ^    bird s.eye  maple;'  the  drawe,^ 


'Si' 


■."r 


126 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


in  my  bedroom  tliat  you  think  so  pretty  are 
made  of  it ;  but  it  is  a  disease  in  the  tree  that 
causes  it  to  have  these  little  marks  all  through 
the  wood.  In  autumn,  this  tree  improves  vhe 
forest  landscape,  for  the  bright  scarlet  leaves  of 
the  maple  give  a  beautiful  look  to  the  woods  in 
the  fall.  The  soft  maple,  another  species,  is 
very  bright  when  the  leaves  are  changing,  but 
it  gives  no  sugar." 

"  Then  I  will  not  let  it  grow  in  my  garden, 
nurse  I" 

"It  is  good  for  other  purposes,  my  dear. 
The  settlers  use  the  bark  for  dyeing  wool ;  and 
a  jet  black  ink  can  be  made  from  it,  by  boiling 
down  the  bark  with  a  bit  of  copperas,  in  an 
iron  vessel ;  so  you  see  it  is  useful.  The  bright 
red  flowers  of  this  tree  look  very  pretty  in 
the  ftpring ;  it  grows  best  by  the  water-side,  and 
some  '"-all  it '  the  swamp  maple.' " 

This  was  all  Mrs.  Frazer  could  tell  Miny 
about  the  maple-trees.  Many  little  girls,  as 
young  as  she,  would  have  thought  it  very  dull 
to  listen  to  what  her  nurse  had  to  say  about 
plants  and  trees;  but  Mary  would  put  aside 


INDIAN  ORNAMENTS. 


127 


bty  arc 
ee  that 
hroiagh 
ves  vhe 
iaves  of 
^oods  in 
ecies,  is 


ring,  but 


r  garden, 

my  dear, 
v'ool;  and 
)y  boiling 
■as,  in  an 
'he  briglit 
[pretty  in 
'-side,  and 


ker  dolls  and  toys,  to  stand  beside  her  to  ask 
questions,  and  listen  to  her  answers ;  the  more 
she  heard,  the  more  she  desired  to  hear,  about 
these  things.  "  The  hearing  ear,  and  the  seeing 
eye,  are  two  things  that  are  never  satisfied," 
saith  the  wise  king  Solomon. 

Mary  was  delighted  with  the  contents  of 
her  Indian  basket,  and  spent  the  rest  of  her 
play-hours  in  looking  at  the  various  articles 
it  contained,  and  asking  her  nurse  questions 
about  the  materials  of  wbich  they  were  made. 
Some  of  the  bark  boxes  were  lined  with  paper, 
but  the  doll's  cradle  was  not,  and  Mary  per- 
ceived that  the  inside  of  it  was  very  rough, 
caused  by  the  hard  ends  of  the  quills  with 
which  it  was  ornamented.  At  first,  she  could 
not  think  how  the  squaws  worked  with  the 
quills,  as  thej'  could  not  possibly  thread  them 
through  the  eye  of  a  needle ;  but  her  nurse  told 
lier  that  when  they  want  to  work  any  pattern 
in  birch-bark,  they  I  race  it  with  some  sharp- 
pointed  instrument,  such  as  a  nail,  or  bodkin, 
or  even  a  shaip  thorn;  with  which  they  pierce 
holes  close  together  round  the  edge  of  the  leaf, 


128 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


or  blade,  or  bird,  they  have  drawn  out  on  the 

birch-bark;  into  these  holes  they  insert  one 

end  of  the  quill,  the  other  end  is  then  drawn 

through  the  opposite  hole,  pulled  tight,  bent  a 

little,  and  cut  off  on  the  inside.     This  any  one 

of  my  young  readers  may  see  if  they  examine 

the  Indian  baskets  or  toys^  made  of  birch-bark. 

"I  have  seen  the  squaws  in  their  wigwams  at 

work  on  these  things,  sitting  cross-legged  on 

their  mats, — some  had  the  qiiills  in  a  little  bark 

dish  on  their  laps,  while  others  held  them  in 

their  mouths — ^not  a  very  safe  nor  delicate  way ; 

but  Indians  are  not  very  nice  in  some  of  their 

habits,"  said  Mrs.  Frazer. 

"  Nurse,  if  you  please,  will  you  tell  me  what 

this  little  animal  is  designed  to  represent  ?"  said 

Mary,  pointing  to  the  figure  of  the  raccoon 

worked  in  quills  on  the  sheath  of  the  hunting- 

knife. 

"  It  is  intended  for   a  raccoon,  my  dear," 

replied  her  nurse. 

"Is  the  raccoon  a  pretty  creature  like  my 
equirrel?" 

"It  is  much  larger  than  your  squirrel;  its 


THfi  RACCOONS. 


129 


t  on  tlie 
aert  one 
n  drawn 
,t,  bent  a 
}  any  one 
r  examine 
»ircli-bajk. 
igwams  at 
legged  on 
little  bark 
d  them  in 
ilicateway; 
me  of  tbeir 


my  dear," 


fe  like  my 


kquirrel; 


fur  is  not  nearly  so  soft  or  so  fine ;  the  colour 
being  black  and  grey,  or  dun;  the  tail  barred 
across,  and  bushy, — ^you  have  seen  many  sleigh- 
robes  made  of  raccoon-skins,  with  the  tails  look- 
ing like  tassels  at  the  back  of  the  sleighs." 

"  Oh,  yes,  and  a  funny  cunning-looking  face 
peeping  out  tool" 

"  The  face  of  this  little  animal  is  sharp,  and 
the  eyes  black  and  keen,  like  a  fox;  the  feet 
bare,  like  the  Suies  of  our  feet,  only  black  and 
leathery;  their  claws  are  very  sharp;  they  can 
climb  trees  very  fast.  During  the  winter  the  rac- 
coons sleep  in  hollow  trees,  and  cling  together 
for  the  sake  of  keeping  eaxih  other  warm.  The 
choppers  find  as  many  as  seven  or  eight  in  one 
nest,  fast  asleep.  Most  probably  the  young 
family  remain  with  the  old  ores  until  spring, 
when  they  separate.  The  raccoon  in  iis  habits 
is  said  to  resemble  the  bear;  like  the  bear, 
it  lives  chiefly  on  vegetables,  especially  Indian 
corn,  but  I  do  not  think  that  it  lays  by  any 
store  for  winter.  They  sometiiies  awake  if 
there  come  a  few  warm  days,  but  soon  retire 
again  to  their  warm,  cosy  nests." 


1 


130 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


"  Eaccoons  will  eat  eggs ;  and  fowls  are  often 
taken  by  them,— perhaps  this  is  in  the  winter, 
when  thej  wake  up  and  are  pressed  by  hun- 
ger." 

Her  nurse  said  that  one  of  her  friends  had 
a  raccoon  which  he  kept  in  a  wooden  cage,  but 
he  was  obliged  to  have  a  chain  and  collar  to 
keep  him  from  getting  away,  as  he  used  to 
gnaw  the  bars  asunder;  and  had  slily  stolen 
away  and  killed  some  ducks,  and  was  almost  as 
mischievous  as  a  fox,  but  was  very  lively  and 
amusing  in  his  way. 

Mary  now  left  her  good  nurse,  and  took  her 
basket,  with  all  its  Indian  treasures,  to  show  to 
her  mamma, — ^with  whom  we  leave  her  for  the 
present. 


SPRING  m  C     .'ADA. 


181 


tie  often 
» winter, 
by  bun- 
ends  liad 
cage,  but 
collar  to 
Q  -used  to 
ilily  stolen 
3  almost  as 
lively  and 

Ld  took  ber 

to  sbow  to 

ilier  for  tbe 


CHAPTER  VIII 

CANADIAN  BIRDS — SNOW  SPARROW — ROBIN  RED-BREAST 
CANADIAN  FLOWERS — AMERICAN  PORCUPINE, 

"  G  PRING-  is  coming,  nurse  1  Spring  is  com- 
ing, at  last  I"  exclaimed  the  little  girl, 
joyfully.  "  The  snow  is  going  away  at  last.  I 
am  tired  of  the  white  snow,  it  makes  my  eyes 
ache.  I  want  to  see  the  brown  earth,  and  the 
grass,  and  the  green  moss,  and  the  prettv 
flowers  againv" 

"  It  will  be  some  dayppefore  this  deep  cover- 
ing of  snow  is  gone.  The  streets  arMpl  slip- 
pery with  ice,  which  it  will  take  some  time,  my 
dear,  to  soften." 

'•But,  nurse,  the  sun  shines,  and  there  are 
little  streams  of  water  running  aloLg  the  streets 
in  every  direction ;  see,  the  snow  is  gone  from 
under  the  bushes  and  trees  in  the  garden.  I 
saw  some  dear  little  birds  flying  about,  and  I 
watched  them  perching  on  the  dry  stalks  of  the 


-r- 


V^tt  ."^■. 


.■-■■*. 


182 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


:€ 


tall,  rough  weeds,  and  they  appeared  to  be 
picking  seeds  out  of  the  husks.  Can  you  tell 
me  what  birds  they  were?" 

"  I  saw  the  flock  of  birds  you  mean,  Mary ; 
they  are  the  common  snow-sparrows;*  almost 
our  earhest  visitants;  for  they  may  be  seen  in 
April,  mingled  with  the  brown  song-sparrow,f 
flitting  about  the  garden  fences,  or  picking  the 
stalks  of  the  tall  mullein  and  amaranths,  to  find 
the  seeds  that  have  not  been  shaken  out  by  the 
autumn  winds;  and  possibly  they  also  find 
insects  cradled  in  the  husks  of  the  old  seed- 
vessels.  These  snow-sparrows  are  very  hardy, 
■|rand  though  some  migrate  to  the  States  in  the 
beginning  of  winter,  |^  few  stay  in  the  Upper 
Proving  and  others  come  back  to  us  before 
the  snow  is  all  gone." 

"They  are  very  pretty,  neat-looking  birds, 
nurse;  dark  slate  colour,  with  white  breasts." 

"When  I  was  a  little  girl,  I  used  to  call 
them  my  Quaker-birds,  they  looked  so  neat  and 
prim.     In  the  summer  you  may  find  their  nests 

*  Fringilla  nivalis.  f  Friogilla  mJodia. 


■^ 


CANADIAN  ROBINS. 


183 


d  to  be 
you  tell 

,n,  Mary; 
•*  almost 
3e  seen  in 
-sparrow,! 
licking  the 
ths,  to  find 
out  by  the 
r  also  find 
B  old  seed- 
■ery  hardy, 
:ates  in  the 
the  Upper 
us  before 

Iking  birds, 
Ite  breasts." 
[ised  to  call 
I  so  neat  and 
their  nests 


jttf 


jlodia. 


in  the  brush-heaps  near  the  edge  of  the  forest ; 
they  sing  a  soft,  low  song." 

"Nurse,  I  heard  a  bird  singing  yesterday, 
when  I  was  in  the  garden ;  a  little  plain  brown 
binl  nurse." 

"  It  was  a  song-sparrow,  Mary.  This  cheerful 
little  bird  comes  with  the  snow-birds,  often  be- 
fore the  robin." 

"Oh,  nurse,  the  robin!  I  wish  you  would 
show  me  a  darling  robin  redbreast.  I  did  not 
know  they  livvd  in  Canada." 

"  The  bird  that  we  call  the  robin  in  this  coun- 
try, my  dear,  is  not  like  the  little  redbreast  you 
have  seen  at  home ;  our  robin  is  twice  as  large ; 
though  in  shape  resembling  the  European 
robin;  I  believe  it  is  really  a  kind  of  thrush. 
j  It  migrates  in  the  fall,  and  returns  to  us  early 
I  in  the  spring." 

"What  is  migrating,  nurse;  Is  it  the  same 
I  as  emigrating?" 

"Yes,  Mary,  foi^  when  a  person  leaves  his 
[native  country,  and  goes  to  live  in  another 

ountry,  he  is  said  to  emigrate.      This  is  the 

)n  why  the  English,  Scotch,  and  Irish  fam- 
12 


134 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


M 


i 


I 


CO: 

tie 

are 

clef 

Liv 

that 


u 


ilies  who  come  to  live  in   Canada  are  called 
emigrants." 

"  What  colour  are  the  Canadian  robins, 
nurse  ?" 

"  The  head  is  blackish,  the  back  lead  colour, 
and  the  breast  is  pale  orange ;  not  so  bright  a 
red,  however,  as  the  real  robin." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  their  nests,  nurse?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  many  of  them.  It  is  not  a 
pretty  nest ;  it  is  large,  and  coarsely  put  to- 
gether, of  old  dried  grass,  roots,  and  dead 
leaves,  plastered  inside  with  clay,  mixed  with 
bits  of  straw,  so  as  to  form  a  sort  of  mortar. 
You  know,  Mary,  that  the  blackbird  and  thrush 
build  nests,  and  plaster  them  in  this  way." 

The  little  lady  nodded  her  head  in  assent 
"Nurse,  I  once  saw  a  robin's  nest  when  I  was  in, 
England ;  it  was  in  the  side  of  a  mossy  ditcli, 
with  primroses  growing  close  beside  it ;  it  wi 
made  of  green  moss,  and  lined  with  white  wooB'"^*^ced 
and  hair ;  it  was  a  pretty  nest,  with  nice  eggW^^^P^Q 
in  it,  much  better  than  your  Canadian  robinW^Js?  sc 
nest."  W^  <iid 

**  Our  robins  build  in  upturned  roots,  in  tliB^^6»  s 


hous 
the  ( 

food  i 
top  a 
In  th 
seen  i 
pastu 
"D 
gethei 
"J^ 
'gate 


WATER-FOWL. 


185 


\\ 


arc 


called 


Lian    robins, 

:  lead  colour, 
t  so  bright  a 

1,  nurse?" 

It  is  not  a 
arsely  put  to- 
3ta,    and  dead 
,y,  mixed  witli 
jort  of  mortar. 
)ird  and  tlirusli 
this  way." 
lead  in  assent' 
twhenlwasinl 
a  mossy  ditcW 
eside  it ;  it  w 
■itli  wHte  wool 
With  nice  eg| 
Janadian  roWl 

led  roots,  in 


corners  of  rail  fences,  and  in  the  young  pear- 
trees  and  apple-trees  in  the  orchard.  The  eggs 
are  a  greenish  blue.  The  robin  sings  a  full, 
clear  song ;  indeed  he  is  our  best  songster.  We 
have  so  few  singing-birds,  that  we  prize  those 
that  do  sing  very  much." 

"Does  the  Canadian  robin  come  into  the 
house  in  winter,  and  pick  up  the  crumbs,  as 
the  dear  little  redbreasts  do  at  home?" 

"  No,  Mary,  they  are  able  to  find  plenty  of 
food  abroad,  when  they  return  to  us ;  but  they 
hop  about  the  houses  and  gardens  pretty  freely. 
In  the  fall,  before  they  go  away,  they  may  be 
seen  in  great  numbers,  running  about  the  old 
pastures,  picking  up  worms  and  seeds." 

"Do  people  see  the  birds  flying  away  to- 
gether, nurse?" 
"  Not  often,  my  dear,  for  most  birds  congre- 
te  together  in  small  flocks  and   depart  un- 
|noticed ;  many  go  away  at  night,  when  we  are 
ileeping;  and  some  fly  very  high  on  cloudy 
ays,  so  that  they  are  not  distinctly  seen  against 
c  dull  grey  sky.    The  water  birds,  such  as 
ese,  swans,  and  ducks,  take  their  flight  in 


186 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


large  bodies.  They  are  heard  making  a  con- 
tinual noise  in  the  air,  and  may  be  seen  grouped 
in  long  lines,  or  in  the  form  of  the  letter  V  lying 
on  its  side,  (>►,)  the  point  generally  directed 
southward  or  westward,  the  strongest  and  oldest 
birds  acting  as  leaders ;  when  tired,  these  aquatic 
generals  fall  backward  into  the  main  body,  and 
are  replaced  by  others." 

Mary  was  much  surprised  at  the  order  and 
sagacity  displayed  by  wild  fowl  in  their  flight; 
and  Mrs.  Frazer  told  her  that  some  other  time 
she  would  tell  her  some  more  facts  respecting 
their  migration  to  other  countries. 

"Nurse,  will  you  tell  me  something  about 
birds'  nests,  and  what  they  make  them  of?" 

"  Birds  that  live  chiefly  in  the  depths  of  the 
forest,  or  in  solitary  places,  far  away  from  thej 
haunts  of  men,  build  their  nests  of  ruder  materi- 
als, and  with  less  care  in  the  manner  of  putting! 
them  together;  dried  grass,  roots,  and  a  little 
moss,  seem  to  be  the  materials  they  make  use  of. 
It  has  been  noticed  by  many  persons,  my  dear, 
that  those  birds  that  live  near  towns  and  villagesj 
and  cleared  farms,  soon  learn  to  make  better! 


IS 


,«"• 


..^■ 


*»■' 


SIKBS  Am  FLOWERS. 


% 


1S7 

andhair."  '''"''=''  '^^^t.^^ool,  cotton, 

"That  fa  very  stnt„g,_  „„^.„ 

"IS  so,  Maiy;  but  the  same  thin 

^--a'no.g  human  beC'jr'^*" 
Mtions  are  contented  with  .  j    ,  ^''^^« 

rf^ticks  and  cane  on       .         ''^'"''^g^  ™^d« 

/^^--eerrzr^'^'"^"^''--' 

S^*-  in  a  more  .ocll  "ta^^  ^  T  """^  *°- 
'»g-andto.ns,ade       ir        '""^^--'• 
-o-^anged  for  a  hut  of  bette;3h!  ''  " 
h-  give,  place  to  hoir*7;'^"*^*"^ 
- -«  and  omamentalTint/"^"""^^  '' 

Hincave,h;fLaTr""^''^^^'-^ 
hlndians.-''^""'^''*- "-die.  lite 

"  When  you  read  the  history  of  Fn  >     ^ 

,^'  -  t»-t  such  was  th^ci^  S^'r 
prazer.  ^^'     said  Mrs. 

"^^e,  perhaps  the  little  birds  like  to  ^ 


1'-> 


13i 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


the  flowers,  and  the  sunshine,  and  the  blue 
sky,  and  men's  houses.  I  will  make  my  gar- 
den very  pretty  this  spring,  and  plant  some 
nice  flowers  to  please  the  dear  little  birds. ' 

Many  persons  would  have  thought  such 
remarks  very  foolish  in  our  little  lady,  but 
Mrs.  Frazer,  who  was  a  good  and  wise  woman, 
did  not  laugh  at  the  little  girl ;  for  she  thought 
it  was  a  lovely  thing  to  see  her  wish  to  give 
happiness  to  the  least  of  God's  creatures,  for 
it  was  imitating  His  own  goodness  and  mercy, 
which  delight  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  things 
which  He  has  called  into  existence. 

"  Please,  Mrs.  Frazer,  will  you  tell  me  which 
flov;"ers  will  be  first  in  bloom?" 

"  The  very  first  is  a  plant  that  comes  up 
without  leaves." 

"Nurse,  that  is  the  Christmas-rose;*  I  have] 
seen  it  in  the  old  country." 

*'  No,  Mary,  it  is  the  colt's-foot  ;f  it  is  a  com- 
mon-looking, coarse,  ;yellow-blossomed  flower; 
it  is  the  first  that  blooms  after  the  snow ;  then! 


•  Winter  Aconite. 


f  Toasilago  Farfara. 


i  the  blue 
ke  my  gar- 
plant  some 
tie  birds. ' 
.ougbt   sucli 
e  lady,  but 
wise  woman, 
sbe  th  ought 
wisb  to  give 
creatures,  for 
ss  and  mercy, 
of  the  things 
ice. 
tell  me  whicli 

lat  comes  up 

rose;*  I  bavel 

[•|-  it  is  a  com- 
iomed  flower; 
le  snow ;  tteul 

[go  Farfara. 


FLORAL  PORTRAITS. 


189 


comes  the  pretty  snow-flower  or  hepatica.  Its 
pretty  tufts  of  white,  pink,  or  blue  starry 
flowers,  may  be  seen  on  the  open  clearing,  or 
beneath  the  shade  of  the  half-cleared  woods, 
or  upturned  roots  and  sunny  banks.  Like  the 
English  daisy,  it  grows  everywhere,  and  the 
sight  of  its  bright  starry  blossoms  delights 
every  eya" 

"  The  ner^,  flower  that  comes  in  is  the  dog's- 
tooth-viole^ 

"What  a  droll  namel"  exclaimed  Mary, 
laughing. 

"I  suppose  it  is  called  so  from  the  sharp- 
ness of  the  flower-leaves,  (petals,)  my  dear,  but 
it  is  a  beautiful  yellow  lily;  the  leaves  are 
also  pretty ;  they  are  veined  or  cloudy  with 
milky  white  or  dusky  purple.  The  plant  has 
a  bulbous  root,  acd  in  the  month  of  April 
sends  up  its  single,  nodding,  yellow-spotted 
flowers;  they  grow  in  large  beds,  where  the 
ground  is  black,  moist  and  rich,  near  creeks 
on  the  edge  of  the  forest." 

« 

» Erythronium.  -[A 


.;'»i 


Ifei 


i 


140 


THE  CANADIAN  POOREST. 


T)o  you  knew  any  other  pretty  flowers, 
T     Je?" 

"  Yes,  my  Jear,  there  ar^  a  great  many  that 
bloom  in  April  and  May;  white  violets,  and 
blue,  and  yellow,  of  many  kinds;  and  then 
there  is  the  spring  beauty,*  a  delicate  little 
flower  with  pink-striped  bells,  and  the  ever- 
lasting flower,f  and  saxifrage,  and  the  white 
and  dark  red  lily,  called  by  some  *  white  and 
red  death.'J  These  have  three  green  leaves 
about  the  middle  of  the  stalk,  and  the  flower 
is  composed  of  three  pure  white  or  deep  red 
leaves — ^petals  my  father  used  to  call  them; 
for  my  father,  Mary,  was  a  botanist,  and  knew 
the  names  of  all  the  flowers,  and  I  learned 
them  from  him. 

"The  most  curious  is  the  moccasin  flower. 
The  early  one  is  bright  golden  yellow,  and 
has  a  bag  or  sack  which  is  curiously  spotted 
with  ruby  red,  and  its  petals  are  twisted  like 
horns.  There  is  a  hard  thick  piece  that  lies 
down  just  above  the  sack  or  moccasin  part; 

•  Claytonia.  f  Graphalium 

J  Trillium,  or  Wake  Robin. 


FLORjyL  PORTRAITS. 


141 


and  if  you  lift  tHs  up,  you  see  a  pair  of  round 
dark  spots  like  eyes,  and  the  Indians  say  it 
is  like  the  face  of  a  hound,  with  the  nose  and 
black  eyes  plain  to  be  seen ;  two  of  the  shorter 
curled  brown  petals  look  like  flapped  ears,  one 
on  each  side  of  the  face. 

"  There  is  a  more  beautiful  sort,  purple  and 
white,  which  blooms  in  August;  the  plant  is 
taller,  and  bears  large  lovely  flowers," 

"And  has  it  a  ftinny  face  and  ears,  too, 
nurse  ?" 

"Yess,  my  dear,  but  the  face  is  more  like 
an  ape's ;  it  is  even  more  distinct  than  in  the 
yellow  moccasin.  When  my  brother  and  I 
were  children,  we  used  to  fold  back  the  petals 
and  call  them  baby  flowers;  the  sack,  we 
thought,  looked  like  a  baby's  white  frock.'^ 

Mary  was  much  amused  at  this  notion. 

"  There  are  a  great  number  of  very  beautiful 
and  also  very  curious  flowers  growing  in  the 
forest,'^  said  Mrs.  Frazer;  some  of  them  are 
used  in  medicine,  and  some  by  the  Indians 
for  dyes,  with  which  they  stain  the  baskets 
land  porcupine  quills.     One   of  our   earliest 


*■;»" 


1m 


142 


THE  CANADIAN  FOKEST. 


-.1^ 


flowers  is  called  tlie  blood-root;*  it  comes  up 
a  delicate,  white,  folded  bud,  within  a  vino- 
shape  leaf,  which  is  veined  on  the  under 
side  Y/ith  orange  yellow.  If  the  stem  or  the 
root  of  this  plant  be  broken,  a  scarlet  juice 
drops  out  very  fast — ^it  is  with  this  the  squaws 
dye  red  and  orange  colours." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  this,  nurse ;  now  I  can 
tell  my  dear  mamma  what  the  baskets  and 
quills  are  dyed  with." 

"The  flower  is  very  pretty,  like  a  white 
crocus,  only  not  so  large.  You  saw  some  cro- 
cuses in  the  conservatory  the  other  day,  I  think, 
my  dear." 

"  Oh  yes,  yellow  ones,  and  purple  too,  in  a 
fanny  china  thing  with  holes  in  its  back,  and 
the  flowers  came  up  through  the  holes.  The 
gardener  said  it  was  a  porcupine." 

"  Please,  nurse,  tell  me  of  what  colours  real 
porcupine  quills  are?" 

"  They  are  white  and  greyish-brown." 

Then  Mary  brought  a  print  and  showed  it  to 

*  Sanguivaria. 


•:.fip,7>.v.>  •>->,:•■ 


CANADIAN  PORCUPINE. 


148 


her  nurse,  saying,  "  Nurse,  is  the  porcupine  like 
this  picture  ?" 

"The  American  porcupine,  my  dear,  is  not 
so  large  as  this  species ;  its  spines  are  smaller 
and  weaker.  It  resembles  the  common  hedge- 
hog more  nearly.  It  is  an  innocent  animal, 
feeding  mostly  on  roots*  and  small  fruits;  it 
burrows  in  dry  stony  hillocks,  and  passes  the 
cold  weather  in  sleep.  It  goes  abroad  chiefly 
during  the  night.  The  spines  of  the  Canadian 
porcupine  are  much  weaker  than  those  of  the 
African  species.  The  Indians  trap  these  crea- 
tures and  eat  their  flesh.  They  bake  them  in 
their  skins  in  native  ovens — Wholes  made  in  the 
earth,  lined  with  stones,  which  they  make  very 
hot,  covering  them  over  with  embers." 

Mrs.  Frazer  had  told  Mary  all  she  knew 
about  the  porcupine,  when  Campbell,  the  fbot- 
j  man,  came  to  say  that  her  papa  wanted  to  see 
her. 


■W'i 


•  There  is  a  plaut  of  the  lily  tribe,  upon  the  roots  of 
I  which  the  porcupine  feeds,  as  well  as  on  wild  bulbs  and 
berries,  and  the  bark  of  the  black  spruce  and  larch.    It  will 
ilso  eat  apples  and  Indian  com. 


\\ 


,«<*.  if:}.-i,..;-:iifi«  i:.l  i 


lU 


THE  CANADIAN  FOKEST. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

INDIAN    BAG — ^INDIAN    BMuROIDKRT — BEAVER'b  TAIL- 
BEAVER    ARCHITECTURE HABITS     OF     THE     BEAVER 

BEAVER    TOOLS — BEAVER    MEADOWS. 

TTTHEN  Mary  went  down  to  hc^  father,  he 
presented  her  with  a  beautiful  Indian 
bag,  which  he  had  brought  from  Lake  Huron, 
in  the  Upper  Province.  It  was  of  fine  doeskin, 
very  nicely  wrought  with  dyed  moose-hair,  and 
the  pattern  was  very  pretty;  the  border  was 
of  scarlet  feathers  on  one  side,  and  blue  on  the 
other,  which  formed  a  rich  silken  fringe  at  each  | 
edge.  This  was  a  present  from  the  wife  of  a 
chief  on  Manitoulin  Island.  Mary  was  much 
delighted  with  her  present,  and  admired  this 
new-fashioned  work  in  moose-hair  very  much. 
The  feathers,  Mrs.  Frazer  told  her,  were  from 
the  summer  red  bird  or  war  bird,  and  the  blue 
bird,  both  of  which,  Mary  said,  she  had  seen. 


for 
sior 

of : 

gay 
wich 
perb 

"J 
abom 
after  i 

"I 
my  d 

dams 
trees. 
I  about 
bough 
you,  if 
what  h 

lit  a  d 
n 
The 

|«t  all,  I 


lit 


"* 


AVer's  tail— 

THE     BEAVER 


s. 


ic^  father,  he 
utiful  Indian 
Lake  Huron, 
f  fine  doesTdn, 
oose-hair,  and 
e  border  was 
d  blue  on  tk  I 
fringe  at  eacli 
the  wife  of  a 
■ry  was  muchl 
admired  this 
ir  very  much, 
er,  were  fromi 
and  the  blue! 
Isbe  bad  seen. 


■  ■.--■■  ■  * 

The  Indians*use  these  feathe^  is  6rtidlL%& 
for  their  heads  and  shoulders  on  grand  occa- 
sions. 

Mary  recollected  hearing  her  mamma  speak 
of  Indians  who  wore  mantles  and  dresses  of 
gay  feathers.  They  were  chieft  of  the  Sand- 
wich Islands,  she  beiieted,  who  had  these  su- 
perb habits. 

"Bear  nurse,  will  yoii  tell  M  any  thing  more 
about  birdSi  and  flowers  to  day  ?"  asked  Mary, 
after  she  had  put  away  her  pretty  bag. 
"I  promised  to  fell  you  about  the  bea.yers, 
y  dear,"  rejilied  Mrs.  ¥TSiz&i0^'^^^^ 
"Oh,  yes,  about  the  beavers  ^at  miake 
dams  and  the  nice  houses,  and  cut  down  whole 
trees.  I  am  glad  you  can  tell  me  something 
about '  those  curious  creatures ;  for  mamma 
bought  me  a  pretty  picture,  which  I  will  show 
you,  if  you  please,'*  said  the  little  girl.  "  But 
what  is  this  odd-looking,  black  thing  here?  Is 
it  a  dried  fish?  It  must  be  a  black  bass! 
es,  nurse,  I  am  sure  it  is."'  ,f!^^:^-m*tft§^^^'^^^- 
1?he  nurse  smiled,  and  said,  "  It  is  not  a  fisE 

ht  all,  my  dear;  it  is  a  dried  beaver's  tail.    I 
13  X 


I 


-y; 


■'".1, 


UVx'y  ■■ 


;^«-ti_;:' f-i.-i^ipf'- 


n\ 


i 


146 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


brouglit  it  from  the  back  lakes*  when  I  was 
at  home,  that  you  might  see  it.  See,  my  dear, 
how  curiously  the  beaver's  tail  is  covered  with 
scales ;  it  looks  like  some  sort  of  black  leather, 
stamped  ia  a  diaper  pattern.  Before  it  is  dried, 
it  is  very  heavy,  weighing  three  or  four  pounds. 
I  have  heard  my  brothers  and  some  of  the 
Indian  trappers  say,  that  the  animal  makes  use 
of  its  tail  to  beat  the  sides  of  the  dams  and 
smooth  the  mud  and  clay,  as  a  plasterer  ijises  a 
trowel.  Some  people  think  otherwise,  but  it 
seems  well  suited  from 'its  shape  and  weight 
for  the  purpose,  and,  indeed,  as  the  walls  .thef] 
raise  seem  to  have  been  smoothed  by  some 
implement,  I  see  no  reason  to  disbelieve  the 
story. 


"Ik. 


"And  whpt  do  the  beavers  make  dams  with, 
nurse  ?"  .      r      -  *  - 

"  With  small  trees  cut  into  pieces,  and  drawn 
in  close  to  each  othet;  and  then  the  beavers  I 
fill  the  spaces  between  with  sods,  and  stones,! 
and  clay,  and  all  sorts  of  things  that  they  gath- 
er together  and  work  up  into  a  solid  wall.    The  I 
walls  are  made  broad  at  the  bottom,  and  are 


'•m^ 


^■. 


•t 


BEAVER  FAMILIES. 


147 


several  feet  in  thickness,  to  make  them  strong 
enough  to  keep  the  water  from  washing  through 
them.  The  bearers  assemble  together  in  the 
fall,  about  the  months  of  October  and  Novem- 
ber, to  build  their  houses  and  repair  their  dams. 
They  prefer  running  water,  as  it  is  less  likely 
to  freeze.  They  work  in  large  parties,  some- 
times fifty  or  a  hundred  togetlier,  and  do  a 
great  deal  in  a  short  time.  They  work  during 
the  night."  '"'  ' 
"  Of  what  use  is  the  dam,  nurse?" 
"  The  dam  is  for  the  purpose  of  securing  a 
constant  supply  of  water,  without  which  they 
could  not  live.  When  they  have  enclosed  the 
beaver-pond,  they  separate  into  family  parties 
of  eleven*  or  twelve,  perhaps  more,  sometimes 


*  I  copy  for  the  reader  an  account  of  the  beavers,  written 
by  an  *ndia-  ihief,  who  was  born  at  Rice  Lake,  in  Canada, 
snd,  becoming  a  Christian,  learned  to  read  and  write,  and 
went  on  a  mission  to  teach  the  poor  Indians,  who  did  not 
know  Christ,  to  worship  God  in  spirit  and  in  truth.  During 
Bome  months,  while  he  was  journeying  towards  a  settlement 
belonging  to  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  he  wrote  a  jour 
nal  of  the  things  he  saw  in  that  wild  country ;  and,  among 
othtr  matters,  he  made  the  following  note  about  the  habits 
)f  those  curious  animals  the  beavers,  which  I  think  is  most 


.eiil'ifjiJi'.v*^      .^^_<  I  ifSb,'  .agv   :■ 


■:*l 


■i-". 


148 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


less,  and  construct  dwellings,  which  are  raised 
against  the  inner  walls  of  the  dam.  These  little 
huts  have  two  chambers,  one  in  which  they 


H'! 


likely  to  be  correct,  as  Indians  are  very  observant  of  the 
habits  of  wild  animals.  He  says, — "The  country  here  is 
marshy,  covered  with  low  evergreens.  Here  begins  an  ex- 
tensive beaver  settlement ;  it  continues  up  the  river  for  sixty 
iniles.  When  travelling  with  a  row-boat,  the  noise  frightens 
the  timid  beavers,  and  they  dive  under  water ;  but  as  we 
had  a  iight  birch-bark  canoe,  we  saw  them  ut  evening  and 
at  day-break,  going  to  and  fro  from  their  work  to  the  shore. 
Th^y  sleep  during  the  day,  and  chop  and  gnaw  during  the 
night.  They  cut  the  wood  that  they  use,  from  slender  wands 
up  to  poles  four  inches  through,  and  from  one  to  two  fatli- 
oms  long  (a  fathom  is  a  measure  of  six  feet).  A  large  beaver 
will  carry  in  his  mouth  a  stick  I  should  not  like  to  carry  on 
my  shoulder,  for  two  or  three  hundred  yards  to  the  water, 
and  then  float  it  off  to  where  he  wants  to  take  it.  Tho 
kinds  of  trees  used  by  the  beavers  are  willow  and  poplar— 
the  round-leaved  poplar  they  prefer.  The  Canada  beavers, 
where  the  poplars  are  largo,  lumber  (?.  e.  cut  down)  oa  a 
larger  scale ;  they  cut  trees  a  foot  through,  but  in  that  case 
only  make  use  of  the  limbs,  which  are  gnawed  off  the  trunk 
in  suitable  lengths.  The  beaver  is  not  a  climbing  animal. 
About  two  cords  of  wood  servo  Mister  Beaver  and  his  family 
for  the  winter. 

"  A  beaver's  house  is  lafge  enough  to  allow  two  men  a 
comfortable  sleeping  room,  and  it  is  kept  very  clean.  It  is 
built  of  sticks,  stones,  and  mud,  and  it  is  well  plastered  out- 
side and  in.  The  trowel  the  beaver  uses  in  plastering  is 
his  tail ;'  this  is  considered  a  great  delicacy  at  the  table. 
Their  beds  are  made  of  chips^  split  as  fiae  as  the  brush  of  m 


.!„<  fc.d 


I  •      •  '   ' 


k  beaver's  house. 


149 


are  raised 
rhese  little 
^hicli  they 

servant  of  the 
mntry  here  is 

begins  an  ex- 
,  river  for  sixty 
noi»e  frightens 
;er;  but  as  we 
nt  evening  and 
i-k  to  the  shore. 
aaw  during  the 
a  slender  wands 
ae  to  two  fath- 

A  large  beaver 
like  to  carry  on 
is  to  the  water, 
take  it.  Tlio 
and  poplar— 

lanada  beavers, 

!ut  down)  on  a 
,ut  iu  that  case 

id  off  the  trunk 
imbing  animal. 

Ir  and  his  family 

low  two  men  ft 
pry  clean.  It  is 
kl  plastered  out- 
[in  plastering  is 
ly  at  the  table. 
]  the  bpviah  of  an 


sleep,  which  is  warm  and  soft  and  dry,  lined 
with  roots  and  sedges  and  dry  grass,  and  any 
odds  and  ends  that  serve  their  purpose.  The 
feeding  place  is  below;  in  this  is  stored  the 
wood  or  the  bark  on  which  they  feed.  The 
entrance  to  this  is  under  water,  and  hidden 
from  sight;  but  it  is  there  that  the  cunning 
hunter  sets  his  trap  to  catch  the  unsuspecting 
beavers." 
"Nurse,  do   not  beavers,    and   otters,    and 

Indian  broom ;  these  are  disposed  in  one  corner,  and  kept 
dry  and  sweet  and  clean.  It  is  the  bark  of  the  green  wood 
that  is  used  by  the  beavers  for  food ;  after  the  stick  is  peeled, 
they  float  it  out  at  a  distance  from  the  house.  Many  good 
housewives  might  learn  a  lesson  of  neatness  and  order  from 
the  humble  beaver. 

"In  Urge  lakes  and  rivers,  the  beavers  make  no  dams; 
they  have  water  enough  without  putting  themselves  to  that 
trouble ;  but  in  small  creeks  they  dam  up,  and  make  a  bett^/ 
itop-water  than  is  done  by  the  millers.  The  spot  where 
they  build  their  dams  is  the  most  labour-saving  place  in  the 
valley,  and  where  the  work  will  stand  best.  When  the  lam* 
is  finished,  not  a  d(pp  of  water  escapes ;  their  work  is  al- 
ways well  done. 

"This  part  of  the  country  abounds  in  beavers.   An  Indian 

I  will  kill  upwards  of  three  hundred  in  a  season.    The  skin 

of  the  beaver  is  not  worth  as  much  as  it  used  to  be,  but 

I  4 

their  flesh  is  an  excellent  article  of  food." — Journal  of  the 
I  Rev.  Peteu  Jacobs^  Indian  Mimonary. 
13* 


*■:*■'- 


150 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


IVi   111 


muskrats  feel  <"old  while  living  in  the  water  j 
and  do  they  not  get  wet?" 

''*No,  my  dear;  they  do  not  feel  cold,  and 
cannot  get  wet,  for  the  thick  coating  of  hair 
and  down  keeps  them  warm;  and  these  ani- 
mals, like  ducks  and  geese  and  all  kinds*  of 
water-fowls,  are  supplied  with  a  bag  of  oil,  with 
which  they  dress  their  coats,  and  that  throws 
oif  the  moisture;  for  you  know,  Mary,  that 
oi],  and  water  will  not  mi:^.  All  creatures 
that  live  in  the  water  are  provided  with  oily 
fur,  or  smooth  scales  that  no  water  can  pene- 
trate; and  water  birds,  such  as  ducks  and 
geese,  have  a  little  bag  of  oil,  with  which  they 
dress  their  feathers," 

"  Are  there  any  beavers  in  England,  nurse  ?" 
asked  Mary, 

"No,  my  dear,  not  now;  but  I  rememher 
my  father  told  me  that  this  animal  oace  existed 
in  numbers  in  different  counti^es  of  Europe;* 
he  said  they  were  still  to  be  found  in  Nor- 


*  The  remains  of  beavev  dams  in  "Wales  prove  that  thii  j 
interesting  animal  was  once  a  native  of  Great  Britain. 


.A.**m.. 


/i1".^■:y,4^'^>'^'^:''■'■'■'/i'I■■.t^•t.-^'*^',''^'^*^•;'■■ 


the  water; 

1  cold,  and 
ing  of  hair 

I  tbeso  ani- 
\\\  kinds*  of 
y  of  oil,  with 

that  throws 
,  Mary,  that 
Ul  creatures 
led  with  oily 
ter  can  pene- 
s  ducks  and 
h  which  they 

[land,  nurse?" 

I  remember 

II  oace  existed 
of  Europe;* 

mnd  in  Kor- 


prove  that  thi» 
I  Great  Britain' 


HABITS  OP  THE  BEAVER. 


151 


way,  Sweden,  Russia,  Germany,  and  even  in 
France.  The  beaver  abounds  mostly  in  North 
America,  and  in  its  cold  portions;  in  solitudes 
that  no  foot  of  man  but  the  wild  Indian  has 
ever  penetrated;  in  lonely  streams  and  inland 
lakes, — ^these  harmless  creatures  are  found  ful- 
filling God's  purpose,  and  doing  injury  to  none. 

"I  think  if  there  had  been  any  beavers  in 
the  land  of  Israel,  in  Solomon's  time,  that  the 
wise  king,  who  spake  of  ants,  spiders,  grass- 
hoppers, and  conies,*  would  have  named  the 
heavers  also,  as  pattern?  of  gentleness,  clean- 
liness, and  industry.  They  work  together  in 
bands,  and  live  in  families,  and  never  fight  or 
disagree.  They  have  no  chief  or  leader;  they 
seem  to  have  neither  king  nor  ruler ;  yet  they 
work  in  perfect  love  and  harmony.  How  pleas- 
ant it  would  be,  Mary,  if  all  Christian  people 
would  love  each  other  as  these  poor  beavers 
seem  to  do  I"  m 

"Nurse,  how  can  beavers  cut  down  trees; 
they  have  neither  axes  nor  saws?" 

*  The  rock  rabbita  of  Ju^sa. 


liiii 


Mi 


Hili 


S 


I 


it.-  Ml 


152 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


l  m 


"Here  are  the  axes  and  saws  witli  whicli 
Grod  has  provided  these  little  creatures;"  and 
Mrs.  Frazer  showed  Mary  two  long  curved 
tusks,  of  a  reddish- brown  colour,  which  she 
told  her  were  the  tools  used  by  the  beavers  to 
cut  and  gnaw  the  trees ;  she  said  she  had  seen 
trees  as  thick  as  a  man's  leg  that  had  been 
felled  by  these  simple  tools. 

Mary  was  much  surprised  that  such  small 
animals  could  cut  through  any  thing  so  thick. 

"  In  nature,"  replied  her  nurse,  "  we  often  see 
great  things  done  by  small  means.  Patience 
and  perseverance  work  well.  The  poplar,  birch, 
and  some  other  trees,  on  which  beavers  feed, 
and  which  they  also  use  in  making  their  dams, 
are  softer  and  more  easily  cut  than  oak,  elm  or 
birch  would  be :  these  trees  are  found  growing 
near  the  water,  and  in  such  places  as  beavers 
build  in.  The  settler  owes  to  the  industri- 
ous habits  of  this  animal  those  large  open  tracts 
of  land  called  beaver  meadows,  covered  with 
long,  thick,  rank  grass,  which  he  cuts  down 
and  uses  as  hay.  These  beaver  meadoTVS  have 
the  appearance  of  dried-up  lakes.    The  soil  isj 


« 


~  'r 


■V,ipj^'"-? 


BEAVER  MEADOWS. 


153 


ires;"  and 
ng  curved 
wMcli  she 
beavers  to 
le  had  seen 
b  had  been 

such  small 
ng  so  thick, 
we  often  see 
IS.    Patience 
3oplar,  bircli, 
beavers  feed, 
)•  their  dams, 
1  oak,  elm  or 
lund  growing 
■s  as  beavers 
the  industri- 
re  open  tracts 
covered  witli 
e  cuts  down 
.eadows  have 
The  soil  is 


black  and  spongy;  for  you  may  put  a  stick 
down  to  the  depth  of  many  feet;  it  is  only  in 
tlie  moT^.ths  of  July,  August,  and  September, 
that  they  are  dry.  Bushes  of  black  alder,  with 
a  few  poplars  and  twining  shrubs,  are  scattered 
over  the  beaver  meadows :  some  of  which  have 
kigh  stony  banks,  and  little  islands  of  trees. 
On  these  are  many  pretty  wild  flowers ;  among 
others,  I  found  growing  on  the  dry  banks  some 
real  hare-bells,  both  blue  ai.d  white." 

"Ah,  dear  nurse,  hare-bells  I  did  you  find 
real  hare-bells,  such  afi  grow  on  the  bonny 
Highland  hills  among  the  heather?  I  wish 
papa  would  let  me  go  to  the  Upper  Province, 
to  see  the  beaver  meadows,  and  gather  the  dear 
iblue-bells." 

'My  father,  Mary,  wept  when  I  brought 
lliiin  a  handful  of  these  flowers,  for  he  said  it 
reminded  him  of  his  Highland  home.  I  have 
tound  these  pretty  bells  growing  on  the  wild 
Mils  about  the  Rice  Lake,,  near  the  water,  as 
|well  as  near  the  beaver  meadows." 
"Do  the  beavers  sleep  in  the  winter  time, 
lurse?" 


v-: 


» 


.:,ilfe4;,.iAW 


ii    V 


\.y 


i.l 


I  Bi 


154 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


"They  do  not  lie  torpid,  as  raccoons  do, 
though  thej  may  sleep  a  good  deal ;  but  as  they 
lay  up  a  g  eat  store  of  provision  for  the  winter, 
of  course  ihej  must  awake  sometimes  to  eat  it." 

Mary  thought  so  too. 

"In  the  spring,  when  the  long  warm  days 
return,  they  quit  their  winter  retreat,  and  sep- 
arate in  pairs,  living  in  holes  in  the  banks  of 
lakes  and  rivers,  and  do  not  unite  again  till 
the  approach  of  the  cold  calls  them  together  to 
prepare  for  winter,  as  I  told  you." 

"Who  calls  them  all  to  build  their  winter 
houses?"  asked  the  child. 

"  The  providence  of  God,  usually  called  in- 
stinct, that  guides  these  wild  animals;  doubt- 
less it  is  the  law  of  nature  given  to  them  by| 
God. 

"There  is  a  great  resemblance  in  the  habits  I 
of  the  muskrat  and  the  beaver.  They  all  live 
in  the  water;  all  separate  in  the  spring,  and] 
meet  again  in  the  fall  to  build  and  work  to- 
gether ;  and,  having  helped  each  other  in  thesel 
things,  they  retire  to  a  private  dwelling,  eachj 
family  by  itself.    The  otter  does  not  make  al 


■% 


MUSKRATS  AND  BEAVERS. 


155 


iccoons  do, 

but  as  they 

tlie  winter, 

es  to  eat  it." 

■warm  days 
eat,  and  sep- 
•he  banks  of 
Lte  again  till 
n  together  to 


in  tlie  habite 

They  all  live 

le  spring,  and 

land  work  to- 

1  other  in  these! 

JLwelling,  eacli 
not  make  a 


dam,  like  the  beaver,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  it 
works  in  companies,  as  the  beaver;  it  lives  on 
fish  and  roots;  the  muskrats  on  shell-fish  and 
roots ;  and  the  beaver  on  vegetable  food  mostly. 
Muskrats  and  beavers  are  used  for  food,  but 
the  flesh  of  the  otter  is  too  fishy  to  be  eaten." 

"Nurse,  can  people  eat  muskrats?"  asked 
Mary,  with  surprise. 

"Yes,  my  dear,  in  the  spring  months  the 
hunters  and  Indians  reckon  them  good  food; 
I  have  eaten  them  myself,  but  I  did  not  like 
them,  they  were  too  fat.  Muskrats  build  a 
little  house  of  r'-'shes,  and  plaster  it ;  they  have 
two  chambers,  and  do  not  lie  torpid;  they 
build  in  shallow,  rushy  places  in  lakes,  but  in 
spring  they  quit  their  winter  ho^ises  and  are 
often  found  in  holes  among  the  roots  of  trees ; 
they  Uve  on  mussels  and  shell-fish.  The  fur  is 
[Used  in  making  caps,  and  hats,  and  fur  gloves." 

"Nurse,  did  you  ever  see  a  tame  beaver?" 

"Yes,  my  dear;  I  knew  a  squaw  who  had 
la  tame  beaver,  which  she  used  to  take  out  in 
her  canoe  with  her,  and  it  sat  in  her  lap,  or  on 
lier  shoulder  and  was  very  playful."    Just  then 


!^;'\h  '      ' 


■  ■  '^ '  '^<ff' 


156 


IHB  CANADIAN  FOBEST. 


the  dinner-bnil  rang,  and  as  dinner  at  0-ovem- 
ment-house  \  aits  for  no  one,  Marj  w:;^  obliged 
to  defer  hearing  raoro  about  'o^a/eri!  ii J;i] 
another  time. 


m 


hh  II 


i  -fV'- 


r  at  dovcm- 
•v^,;;^  obliged  1| 


LITTLE  mart's  STORY. 


167 


CHAPTER  X. 

INDIAN  BOY  AND  HIS   PETS — TAME    BEAVER  AT    HOME 

KITTEN,    WILDFIRE PET    RACCOON  AND  THE  SPANIEL 

PUPPIES — CANADIAN    FLORA. 

"I^URSE,  you  have  told  me  a  great  many 
nice  stories;  now  I  can  tell  you  one,  if 
you  would  like  to  hear  it,"  and  the  little  girl 
fixed  her  bright  eyes,  beaming  with  intelli- 
gence, on  the  face  of  her  nurse,  who  smiled, 
and  said  she  should  like  very  much  to  hear 
the  story, 
"You  must  guess  what  it  is  to  be  about, 


» 


nurse. 

"I  am  afraid  I  shall  not  guess  right.  Is  it 
'Little  Red  Riding  Hood,'  or  'Old  Mother 
Hubbard,'  or  Jack  the  Giant  Killer?'" 

"  Oh,  nurse,  to  guess  such  silly  stories  I"  said 

the  little  girl,  stopping  her  ears.     "Those  are 

too  silly  for  me  even  to  tell  baby.    My  story  is  a 
14 


i 


, 


i 


(■■•■ 


■Tv. 


■» 


;■# 


158 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


■ij;" 


nice  story  about  a  darling  tame  beaver.  Major 
Pickford  took  me  on  bis  knee  and  told  me  the 
story  last  night." 

Mrs.  Frazer  begged  Mary's  pardon  for  mak- 
ing such  foolish  guesses,  and  declared  she  should 
like  very  much  to  hear  Major  Pickford's  story 
of  the  tame  beaver. 

"Well,  nurse,  you  must  know  there  was 
once  a  gentleman  who  lived  in  the  bush,  on  the 
banks  of  a  small  lake,  somewhere  in  Canada,  a 
long,  long  way  from  Montreal.  He  lived  all 
alone  in  a  little  log  house,  and  spent  his  time 
in  fishing,  and  trapping,  and  hunting ;  and  he 
was  very  dull,  for  he  had  no  wife,  and  little  child 
like  me  to  talk  to.  The  only  people  whom  he 
used  to  see  were  some  French  lumberers,  and 
now  and  then  the  Indians  would  come  in  their 
canoes  and  fish  on  his  lake,  and  make  their 
wigwams  on  the  lake  shore,  and  hunt  deer  in 
the  wood.  The  gentleman  wa?  very  fond  of 
the  Indians,  and  used  to  pass  a  great  deal  of 
his  time  with  them,  and  talk  to  them  in  their 
own  language. 

"  Well,  nurse,  one  day  he  found  a  poor  little 


,  ■JOF'. 


t 


?■.«,• 


INDIAN  BOT. 


159 


Indian  boy  who  had  been  lost  in  the  woods, 
and  was  half  starved,  sick  and  weak,  ind  the 
kind  gentleman  took  him  home  to  his  house, 
and  fed  and  nursed  him  till  he  got  quite  strong 
again.    "Was  not  that  good,  nurse?" 

"  It  was  quite  right,  my  dear.  People  should 
always  be  kind  to  the  sick  and  weak,  and  espe- 
cially a  poor  Indian  stranger.  I  like  the  story 
■very  much,  and  shall  be  glad  to  hear  more 
about  the  Indian  boy." 

"  Nurse,  there  is  not  a  great  deal  more  about 
the  Indian  boy;  for  when  the  Indian  party  to 
which  he  belonged  returned  from  hunting,  he 
went  away  to  his  own  home;  but  I  forgot  to 
teL  you  that  the  gentleman  had  often  said  how 
much  he  should  like  to  have  a  young  beaver 
to  make  a  pet  of.  He  was  very  fond  of  pets ; 
he  had  a  dear  little  squirrel,  just  like  mine, 
nurse,  a  flying  squirrel,  which  he  had  made  so 
tame  that  it  slept  in  his  bosom  and  lived  in 
his  pocket,  where  he  kept  nuts  and  acorns  and 
apples  for  it  to  eat,  and  he  had  a  raccoon  too, 
nurse, — only  think!  a  real  raccoon;  and  Major 
Pickford  told  me  something  sc  droll  about  the 


1 


^- 


t 


160 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


raccoon,  only  I  want  first  to  go  on  with  the 
rtory  about  the  beaver. 

"  One  day,  as  the  gentleman  was  sitting  by 
the  tire  reading,  he  heard  a  slight  noise,  and 
when  he  looked  up  was  quite  surprised  to  see 
an  Indian  boy  in  a  blanket  coat, — with  his 
dark  eyes  fixed  upon  his  face,  while  his  long 
black  hair  hung  down  on  his  shoulders.  He 
looked  quite  wild,  and  did  not  say  a  word,  but 
only  opened  his  blanket  coat,  and  showed  a 
brown  furred  animal  asleep  on  his  breast. 
What  do  you  think  it  was,  nurse?" 

"A  young  beaver,  my  dear." 

"Yes,  nurse,  it  was  a  little  beaver.  The 
good  Indian  boy  had  caught  and  tamed  it, 
on  purpose  to  bring  it  to  his  white  friend,  who 
had  been  so  good  to  him. 

"I  cannot  tell  you  all  the  amusing  things 
the  Indian  boy  said  about  the  beaver,  though 
the  Major  told  them  to  me ;  but  I  cannot  talk 
like  an  Indian,  you  know,  Mrs.  Frazer.  After 
the  boy  went  away,  the  gentleman  set  to  work 
and  made  a  little  log-house  for  hi-s  beaver  to 
live  in,  and  set  it  in  a  corner  of  the  shanty; 


COSTLY  BEAVER-DAM. 


161 


and  he  hollowed  a  large  sugar-trough  for  hia 
water,  that  he  might  have  water  to  wash  in, 
'  and  cut  down  some  young  willows  and  poplars 
and  birch-trees  for  him  to  eat,  and  the  little 
beaver  grew  very  fond  of  his  new  master;  it 
would  fondle  him  just  like  a  little  squirrel, 
put  its  soft  head  upon  his  knee,  and  climb  up- 
on his  lap;  he  taught  it  to  eat  bread,  sweet 
cake,  and  biscuit,  and  even  roast  and  boiled 
meat,  and  it  would  drink  milk  too. 

"Well,  nurse,  the  little  beaver  lived  very 
happily  with  this  kind  gentleman  till  the  next 
fall,  and  then  it  began  to  get  very  restless  and 
active,  as  if  it  were  tired  of  doing  nothing.  One 
day  his  master  heard  of  the  arrival  of  a  friend 
some  miles  off,  so  he  left  Mister  Beaver  to  take 
care  of  himself,  and  went  away ;  but  he  did 
not  forget  to  give  him  some  green  wood,  and 
plenty  of  water  to  drink  and  play  in ;  he  stayed 
several  days,  for  he  was  very  glad  to  meet 
with  a  friend  in  that  lonely  place ;  but  when 
he  came,  he  could  not  open  his  door,  and  was 
obliged  to  get  in  at  the  window.  What  do 
you  think  the  beaver  had  done  ?     It  had  built 

14*  L 


'*;    1 


.    q 


*: 


*  A  ' 


r 


V^r-    --v 


H 


r^T~" 


•■TfllW* 


'Ws^' 


162 


THE  CANADIAN  rORKST. 


a  dam  againat  the  side  of  the  trough,  and  a 
wall  across  the  door,  and  it  had  dug  up  the 
'■  mrth  and  the  floor,  and  carried  the  earth  and 
the  stones  to  help  to  make  his  dam,  and  pud- 
dled it  with  water,  and  made  such  work  1  the 
house  was  in  perfect  confusion,  with  mud,  chips, 
bark,  and  stone ;  and,  oh,  nurse,  worse  than  all 
that,  it  had  gnawed  through  the  legs  of  the 
tables  and  chairs,  and  they  were  lying  on  the 
floor  in  such  a  state,  and  it  cost  the  poor  gen- 
tleman so  much  trbuble  to  put  things  to  rights 
again,  and  make  more  chairs  and  another 
table!  and  when  I  laughed  at  the  pranks  of 
that  wicked  beaver,  for  I  could  not  help  laugh- 
ing, the  Major  pinched  my  ear,  and  called  me 
a  mischievous  puss." 

Mrs.  Frazer  was  very  much  entertained  with 
the  story,  and  she  told  Mary  that  she  had  heard 
of  tame  beavers  doing  such  things  before ;  for 
in  the  season  of  the  year  when  beavers  con- 
gregate together  to  repair  "their  works  and  build 
their  winter  houses,  those  that  are  in  confine- 
ment become  restless  and  unquiet,  and  show 
the  instinct  that  mgves  these  animals  to  pro- 


il 


RACCOONS. 


168 


vide  their  winter  retreata,  and  lay  up  their  storps 
of  food. 

"  Nurse,"  said  Mary,  "  I  did  not  think  that 
beavers  and  raccoons  could  be  taught  to  eat 
sweet  cake,  and  bread  and  meat." 

"Many  animals  learn  to  eat  very  different 
food  to  what  they  are  accustomed  to  live  upon 
in  a  wild  state.  The  wild  cat  lives  on  raw 
flesh;  while  the  domestic  cat,  you  know,  my 
dear,  will  eat  cooked  meat,  and  even  salt  meat, 
with  bread  and  milk  and  many  other  things. 
I  knew  a  person  who  had  a  black  kitten  called 
*  Wildfire,'  who  would  sip  whisky  toddy  out  of 
his  glass,  and  seemed  to  like  it  as  well  as  milk 
or  water,  only  it  made  him  too  wild  and  frisky." 

"  Nurse,  the  raccoon  that  the  gentleman  had, 
would  drink  sweet  whisky  punch;  but  my 
governess  said  it  was  not  right  to  give  it  to 
him ;  and  Major  Pickford  laughed,  and  declared 
the  raccoon  must  have  looked  very  funny  when 
it  was  tipsy.  Was  not  the  Major  naughty  to 
say  so?" 

Mrs.  Frazer  said  it  was  not  quite  proper. 

"  But,  nurse,  I  have  not  told  you  about  the 


\f 


\x 


N 


-**. 


^ 


164 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


raccoon, — ^he  was  a  funny  fellow ;  he  was  very 
fond  of  a  little  spaniel  and  her  puppies,  and 

ok  a  great  deal  of  care  of  them ;  he  brought 
them  meat  and  any  thing  nice  that  had  been 
given  him  to  eat ;  but  one  day  he  thought  he 
would  give  them  a  fine  treat,  so  he  contrived 
to  catch  a  poor  cat  by  the  tail,  and  drag  her 
into  his  den,  where  he  and  the  puppies  lived 
together.  His  pets  of  course  would  not  eat  the 
cat,  so  the  wicked  creature  eat  up  poor  pussy 
himself;  and  the  gentleman  was  so  angry  with 
the  naughty  thing  that  he  killed  him  and  made 
a  cap  of  his  skin,  for  he  was  afraid  the  cunning 
raccoon  would  kill  his  beaver  and  eat  up  his 
tame  squirrel." 

"  The  raccoon,  Mary,  in  its  natural  state,  has 
all  the  wildness  and  cunning  of  the  fox  and 
weazel ;  he  will  eat  flesh,  poultry,  and  sucking 
pigs,  and  is  also  very  destructive  to  Indian  corn. 
These  creatures  abound  in  the  Western  states, 
and  are  killed  in  great  numbers  for  their  skins. 
The  Indian  hunters  eat  the  flesh,  and  say  it  is 
very  tender  and  good ;  but  it  is  not  used  for 
food  in  Canada.    The  raccoon  belongs  to  the 


RIOK  LAKE  PLAINS. 


165 


same  class  of  animals  as  the  bear,  which,  it  re- 
sembles ia  some  points,  though,  being  small,  it 
is  not  so  dangerous  either  to  man  or  the  larger 
animals. 

"  And  now,  my  dear,  let  me  show  you  some 
pretty  wild  flowers  a  little  girl  brought  me  this 
morning  for  you,  as  she  heard  that  you  loved 
flowers.  There  are  yellow  moccasins,  or  ladies'- 
slippers,  the  same  that  I  told  you  of  a  little 
while  ago ;  and  white  lilies,  crane-bills,  and 
these  pretty  lilac  geraniums;  here  are  scarlet- 
cups,  and  blue  lupines,  they  are  all  in  bloom 
now,  and  many  others.  If  we  were  on  the  Rice 
Lake  plains,  my  dear,  we  could  gather  all  these 
and  many,  many  more.  In  the  months  of  June 
and  July  those  plains  are  like  a  garden,  and 
their  roses  scent  the  air." 

"  Nurse,  I  will  ask  ray  dear  papa  to  take  me 
to  the  Rice  Lake  plains,"  said  the  little  girl,  as 
she  gazed  with  delight  on  the  lovely  Canadian 
flowers. 


» 


'I 


n 


I 


* 
^ 


*,! 


Aj 


w 


166 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


CHAPTER    XI. 


NURSE  TELLS  MARY  ABOUT  A  LITTLE  BOY  WHO  WAS 
EATEN  BY  A  BKAR  IN  THE  PROVINCE  OF  NEW  BRUNS- 
WICK  OF  A  BABY    THAT  WAS    CARRIED    AWAY,    BUT 

TAKEN  ALIVE A  WALK  IN  THE  GARDEN  ™  HUMMING 

BIRDS CANADIAN    BALSAMS. 


"  lyrURSE,"  said  Mary,  "  did  you  ever  hear 
of  any  one  having  been  eaten  by  a  wolf 
or  bear?" 

"  I  have  heard  of  such  things  happening,  my 
dear,  in  this  country;  but  only  in  lonely,  un- 
settled parts  of  the  country,  near  swamps  and 
deep  woods." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  any  little  boy  or  girl 
having  been  carried  off  by  a  wolf  or  bear?" 
asked  the  child. 

"  No,  my  dear,  not  in  Canada,  though  similar 
accidents  may  have  happened  there;  but  when 
T  was  a  young  girl  I  heard  of  such  tragedies  at 
New  Brunswick ;  one  of  the  British  provinces 
lying  to  the  east  of  this,  and  a  cold  and  rather 


\  iJ 


A  SAD  ACCIDENT. 


16^ 


r   WHO   WAS 

NEW  BRUNS- 

AWAY,    BUT 

—  HUMMING 


ever  liear 
L  by  a  wolf 

pening,  my 
lonely,  un- 
7amps  and 

boy  or  girl 
or  bear?" 

Lgb  similar 

but  when 

-agedies  at 

provinces 

md  rather 


barren  country,  but  containing  manj  minerals, 
such  as  coal,  limestone,  and  marble,  besides 
vast  forests  of  pine,  and  small  lakes  and  rivers. 
It  resembles  Lower  Canada  in  many  respects ; 
but  it  is  not  so  pleasant  as  the  province  of 
Upper  Canada,  neither  is  it  so  productive. 

"  Thirty  years  ago  it  was  not  so  well  cleared 
or  cultivated  as  it  is  now,  and  the  woods  were 
full  of  wild  beasts  that  dwelt  among  the  swamps 
and  wild  rocky  valleys.  Bears,  wolves,  and 
catamounts  abounded,  with  foxes  of  several 
kinds,  and  many  of  the  fine  furred  and  smaller 
species  of  animals,  which  were  much  sought 
for,  on  account  of  their  skins.  Well,  my  dear, 
near  the  little  village  where  my  aunt  and  ui?elo 
were  living,  there  were  great  tracts  of  unbroken 
swamps  and  forests,  which  of  course  sheltered 
many  wild  animals.  A  sad  accident  happened 
a  few  days  before  we  arrived,  which  caused 
much  sorrow,  and  no  little  fright,  in  the  place. 

"  An  old  man  went  out  into  the  woods  one 
morning  with  his  little  grandson,  to  look  for 
the  oxen  which  had  strayed  from  the  clearing. 
They  had  not  gone  many  yards  from  the  enclo- 


t 


i 


■>l 


i  ■■.• 


168 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


sure  when  tbey  heard  a  crackling  and  rustling 
among  the  underwood  and  dry  timbers  that 
strewed  the  ground.  The  old  man,  thinking  it 
was  caused  by  the  cattle  they  were  looking  for, 
bade  the  little  boy  go  forward  and  drive  them 
on  the  track ;  but  in  a  few  minutes  he  heard  a 
fearful  cry  from  the  child,  and  hurrying  for- 
ward through  the  tangled  brushwood,  saw  the 
poor  little  boy  in  the  deadly  grasp  of  a  huge 
black  bear,  who  was  making  off  at  a  fast  trot 
with  his  prey. 

"  The  old  man  was  unarmed,  ana  too  feeble 
to  pursue  the  dreadful  beast.  He  could  only 
wring  his  hands  and  rend  his  grey  hairs  in 
grief  and  terror;  but  his  lamentations  would 
not  restore  the  child  to  life.  A  band  of  hunters 
and  lumberers,  armed  with  rifles  and  knives, 
turned  out  to  beat  the  woods,  and  were  not 
long  in  ti-acking  the  savage  animal  to  his  re- 
treat in  a  neighbouring  cedar  swamp.  A  few 
fragments  of  the  child's  dress  were  all  that 
remained. of  him;  but  the  villagers  had  the 
satisfaction  of  killing  the  great  she-bear  with 
her  two  half-grown  cubs.    The  magistrates  of 


"i      ! 


BEARS  AND  WOLVES. 


169 


id  rustling 
nbers  that 
thinking  it 
ooking  for, 
drive  them 
,  he  heard  a 
irrying  for- 
>od,  saw  the 
)  of  a  huge 
t  a  fast  trot 


the  district  gave  them  a  large  sum  for  shooting 
these  creatures,  and  the  skins  were  sold,  and 
the  money  given  to  the  parents  of  the  little 
boy ;  but  no  money  could  console  them  for  the 
loss  of  their  beloved  child. 

"  The  flesh  of  the  bear  is  eaten  both  by  In- 
dians and  hunters ;  it  is  like  coarse  beef.  The 
hams  are  cured  and  dried,  and  by  many  thought 
to  be  a  great  dainty." 

"  Mrs.  Frazer,  I  would  not  eat  a  bit  of  the 
I  ham  made  from  a  v/icked,  cruel  bear  that  eats 
I  little  children,"  said  Mary;  "I  worder  the 
I  hunters  were  not  afraid  of  going  into  the 
swamps  where  those  wild  beasts  lived.  Are 
there  as  many  beaiB  and  wolves  now  in  those 
[places?" 

"ISTo,  my  dear;  great  changes  have  taken 
I  place  since  that  time.  As  the  country  becomes 
more  thickly  settled,  the  woods  disappear.  The 
axe  and  the  fire  destroy  the  haunts  that  shel- 
tered these  wild  beasts,  and  they  retreat  further 
back,  where  the  deer  and  other  creatures  on 
Iwliich  they  principally  feed  abound." 


I 


M 


15 


m 


i     If     ' 


II 


170 


THE  CANADIAN  F0.1EST. 


"  Nurse,  that  was  a  very  sad  story  about  tlie 
poor  little  boy,"  said  Mary. 

"  I  also  heard  of  a  little  child,"  continued 
nurse,  "  not  more  than  two  years  old,  who  was 
with  her  mother  in  the  harveai||field ;  who  had 
spread  a  shawl  on  the  ground  near  a  tall  tree, 
and  laid  the  child  on  it  to  shiop  or  play,  when 
a  bear  came  out  of  the  wood  and  carried  her  off, 
leaping  the  fence  with  her  in  its  arms ;  but  the 
mother  ran  screaming  after  the  beast,  and  the 
reapers  pursued  so  closely  with  their  pitchforks  j 
and  reaping-hooks,  that  Bruin,  who  was  only  a 
half-grown  bear,  being  hard  pressed,  made  for  a 
tree ;  and  as  it  was  not  easy  to  climb  with  a 
babe  in.  his  a  -ms,  he  quietly  laid  the  little  one 
down  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  and  soon  was! 
among  the  thick  branches  out  of  the  reach  of) 
the  enemy.  I  dare  say  baby  must  have  won-i 
dered  what  rough  nurse  had  taken  her  up ;  tulj 
she  was  unhurt,  and  ^s  alive  now." 

"  I  am  so  glad,  nurse,  the  dear  baby  was  nol| 
hugged  to  death  by  that  horrid  black  bear ;  and 
I  hope  he  was  killed." 

"  I  dare  say,  my  dear,  he  was  shot  by  som^ 


-:*, 


r^ 


v*". r'"  '  ^"  f^Ti? 


JT. 

ory  about  tlie 

i,"  continued 
old,  who  was 
3ld ;  who  had 
ar  a  tall  tree, 
3r  play,  when 
jarried  her  off, 
irms ;  but  the 
beast,  and  the 
leir  pitchforks  j 
ho  was  only  a 
3d,  made  for  a 
climb  with  a 
the  little  one 
md  soon  was 
f  the  reach  ofl 
ist  have  won-j 
a  her  up ;  but 

baby  was  no)| 
ack  bear ;  anc 

shot  by  som^ 


y 


LOST    CiriL 


n     AMD 


B  E  A  I 


i  s . 


ase   172. 


Vn '.  "•?■' 


si 


p. 


HABITS  OF  THE  BEAB. 


171 


*-t 


of  tlie  men ;  for  they  seldom  worked  near  the 
forest  withv^ut  having  a  gun  with  them,  in  case 
of  srting  deer,  or  pigeons,  or  partridges." 

"  I  should  not  like  to  live  in  that  country, 
Mrs.  Finzer ;  for  a  bear,  a  wolf,  or  a  catamount 
might  eat  me." 

"  I  never  heard  of  a  governor's  daughter  be- 
ing eaten  by  a  bear,"  said  Mrs.  Frazer,  laughing, 
as  she  noticed  the  earnest  expression  on  the  face 
of  her  little  charge.  She  then  continued  her 
account  of  the  ursine  family. 

"  The  bear  retires  in  cold  weather,  and  sleeps 
till  warmer  seasons  awaken  him;  he  does  not 
lay  up  any  store  of  winter  provisions,  because 
he  seldom  rouses  himself  during  the  time  of 
his  long  sleep,  and  in  the  spring  he  finds  food, 
both  vegetable  and  animal,  for  he  can  eat  any 
thing  when  hungry,  like  the  hog.  He  often 
robs  the  wild  bees  of  their  honey,  and  his  hide 
being  so  very  thick,  seems  insensible  to  the 
stings  of  the  angry  bees.  Bruin  will  sometimes 
find  odd  places  for  his  winter  bed,  for  a  farmer, 
who  was  taking  a  stack  of  wheat  into  his  barn 
to  be  threshed  in  the  winlcr  time,  once  found 


1 


^,\A 


W 


■-♦•Ilis-jft';*^^. 


'* 


■kh' 


r 


;V';' 


¥ 


172 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


a  IfiTge  black  bear  comfortably  asleep  in  tlie 
middle  of  the  sheaves." 

"  How  could  the  bear  have  got  into  the  stack 
of  wheat,  aurse  ?" 

" The  claws  of  this  animal  are  so  strong,  iiici 
he  makes  so  much  use  of  his  paws,  which  are 
almost  like  hands,  that  he  must  have  pulled 
the  sheaves  out,  and  so  made  an  entrance  for 
himself.  His  skin  and  flesh  amply  repaid  the 
farmer  for  any  injury  the  grain  had  received. 
I  remember  seeing  the  bear  brought  home  in 
triumph  on  the  top  of  the  load  of  wheat.  Bears 
often  do  great  mischief  by  eating  the  Indian 
corn  whei>  it  is  ripening ;  for  besides  what  they 
devour,  they  spoil  a  vast  deal  by  trampling  the 
plants  down  with  their  clumsy  feet.  They  will, 
when  hard  pressed  by  hunger,  come  close  to  the 
farmer's  house  and  rob  the  pig-sty  of  its  ten- 
ants. Many  years  ago,  before  the  forest  was 
cleared  away  in  the  neighbourhood  of  what  is 
now  a  la-rge  town,  but  in  those  days  consisted 
of  only  a  few  poor  log-houses,  a  settler  was 
much  annoyed  by  the  frequent  visits  of  a  bear 
to  his  hog-pen.    At  last  he  resolved  to  get  a 


%A 


^~ 


i  -  ..i^itw.'- 


-TJHHyHi'-? 


'^i. 


II    '. 


■>^-y 


< 


tTKWELCOME  VISITOB. 


^   f^  <^  1  •    -    , 


178 


«^'ghbour  who  wa.  a  very  expert  hn  . 
■^ome  with  h«  rifle  and  wateh  vviH   v  *" 

pen  whore  the  fatlin.  y,  '""•    ^''^ 

the  log-house-  it  h  7  ^°^  ^"''^  ""»  «'°««  ^ 
6  ^'Juse ,  It  had  a  ]on«?  low  i  j 

-d  -a.  carefully  fastened  L,  "  ''  T'' 

"ouW  i5nd  entrance.     We]]    th  '  "■ 

»d  the  hunter  had  watched  for  tw  ''  T 
^»d  no  bear  came;  on  the  th  V?  '"^''''' 
tiM  and  lay  dow^  Z  T  '""'^  ''''' 

of  the  kitchen,  Xn  th  T  "'""  '""^  ^°- 
-^enedbya'Jun;a«:ff~'^--- 
-•J  -ippir,  the  «hin,7estrr"  '""'"^ 

^-kedout,..twa3n.oon]i!h?lf^t     ""' 
tl^e  dark  shadow  of  somfmt^''  ''  "" 

g~«nd,  and  spied  the  great  bLlK^  "  ^^ 
«g  on  i,3  hinder  leo.  ^fd   *  ^  '""  '''^°''- 

Off  a.  fast  as  it  coutty   rg  S*^  f '"°^'^^ 
«pon  them.    The  hogs  wer    i„  f     "'  "'^^ 

-aming  and  grunting  Jrtel^;;:*'^''*' 
-an  stepped  back  into  the  ho^^ro^r^Z' 
hunter,  who  took  aim  from  thJ  T  ^  *^ 
*ot  the  bear  dead     Ue   h    .    T"'^'  ""^ 

beast  was  nailed  up  a.^!     I      °'  *"  ''"^^  >  ' 
aueu  up  as  a  trophv  anr]  ih^  ■      ^  ^^ 

was  dried  or  salted  for  winti  us!       ^      ""'  *' 
15*  '^'^  "^s-  and  great    -' 


J»!' 


■■,* 


lit  * 


.<■       * 


*^ 


#*       .-i 


'M 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  {MT-3) 


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1.0 


II 


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1.8 


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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER, NY.  USSO 

(716)  872-4503 


#»' 


•     i 


K°  MP 


,-;M0V4W«;-  'i^M.tisMt 


1 


174 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


'■m.' 


i 

I 

II 


''  * 


J», 


,*: 


n    . 


were  the  rejoicings  of  the  settlers  who  had  suf- 
fered so  much  from  Bruin's  the^  of  corn  and 
pork." 

"I  am  glad  the  hunter  killed  him,  nuise,  for 
he  might  have  eaten  up  some  of  the  children, 
when  they  were  playing  about  in  the  fields." 

"Sometimes,"  continued  Mrs.  Frazer,  "the 
bears  used  to  visit  the  sugar-bush,  when  the 
settlers  were  making  maple  sugar,  and  overturn 
the  sap-troughs,  and  drink  the  sweet  hquid.  I 
dare  say  they  would  have  been  glad  of  a  taste 
of  the  sugar  too,  if  they  could  have  got  at  it. 
The  bear  is  not  so  often  met  with  now  as  it 
used  to  be  many  years  ago.  The  fur  of  the 
bear  used  to  be  worn  as  muffs  and  tippets,  but 
it  is  now  little  used  for  that  purpose,  being 
thought  to  be  too  coarse  and  heavy,  but  it  is 
still  made  into  caps  for  soldiers,  and  worn  as 
sleigh-robes." 

This  was  all  Mrs.  Frazer  chose  to  recollect 

about  bears,  for  she  was  unwilling  to  dwell  long 

.,^on  any  gloomy  subject,  which  she  knew  was 

not  good  for  young  minds,  so  she  took  her 

charge  into  the  garden  to  look  at  the  flower- 


Vk 


ft-; 


M- 


»:  * 


THE  svvxma.saa>,  -  ,„- 

•^  and  watoh  the  bir^=     j.  ' 

««»  the  cluld  was  gT^rT  •     *^*'  •«««  • 

«-«<«  flitting  to  ^,^*  <*;f  J*  -tex^t  the 
«nd  holding  up  t,,  g      •    ^*  J««t  she  stopped, 

"°'  to  come  too  near T  ^  ''^  ^"^  ^'^ 
««1  admi^tion  on Ti^-  "^^  '"  '^°«<fe' 
''"-ering  o.er  the  ^^""l  "'^"^  *«*  -- 

»*^^ea,theg.^tr'rT''^°° 

''^  w^r  ^"^ -«-      ''^ 

'»<^^  J>ke  manuna's  rubiesof  !^  *  '^  °^^- 
"reatu^,  Itn,„^.^  *^^' ^J"*' a  curious 
What  is  it?-.     "^  ^  "  ""ott  or  a  butte^^. 

Oi.  «««^  it  darts  through  the  ?•        ""   «°°*- 
an  am>w.    What  was  it  ^        f^  «wift  as 

«««  hone^.nckle,-!rdl  ^'"^'^    ^^^  «» 

"^    -^  ^  «V  «  thoughi  them  ♦ 


:,* 


">■■ 


* 


■5* 


f'«S»fi"*S&*j  ;;^%:.'^     •  ■  '5* 

■     ^-'^-••v;;  ■         •■  flS^p^;' , 

■*^  .■•;■■''  ■■ 

'    '    ■'^'^"         '        "^'-1: 

THE  CANADIAN  FC 

..?:' 


# 

^J;* 


fe 


4k 


\v 


very  pretty;  or  was  it  sriielling  them?    They  ■ 
are  very  sweet,"  '  ^ ,, 

"  My  dear  child,  it  might  be  doing  so ;  I  * 
don't  know.  Perhaps  the  good  God  has  given  • 
to  these  creatures  the  same  senses  f  r  enjoying 
sweet  scents  and  bright  colours,  as  we  have ; 
yet  it  was  not  for  thei^rftime,  but  the  honey 
that  this  little  bird  came  to  visit  the  open 
flowers.  The  long  slender  bill  which  the  hum- 
ming-bird inserts  into  the  tubes  of  the  flowers, 
is  his  instrument  for  extracting  the  honey. 
Look  at  the  pretty  creature's  ruby  throat,  and 
gTeen  and  gold  feathers." 

"  How  does  it  make  that  whirring  noise, 
nurse,  just  like  the  humming  of  a  top  ?"  asked 
the  child. 

"The  little  bird  produces  the  sound  from 

which  he  derives  his  name,  by  beating  the  air 

*  with  his  wings.     This  rapid  motion  is  necessary 

to  sustain  its  position  in  the  air  while  sucking 

the  flovrers. 

'  "I  remember,  Mary,  first  seeing  humming- 
birds when  I  was  about  your  age,  while  walk- 
ing in  the  garden.    It  was  a  bright  September 

0-'  ■ 


mo 
of  1 
the  j 
hy 

the  t] 
^tiingt 
the  flc 

they  be 

of  a  8pi 

^Pon  th 

j^een  the 
pad  inad< 
r^e  hrigd 
httle  did 

p  ^y  fa] 
hd  read 
h^ming-l 

r^^  you 

V  *^y  He. 

1  ^ary  ^a 

^g  the 


.1*,. 


'■■flKmi 


"'■■li'Wi"! 


.*' 


^*rt 


^^T     4JJD      JOgg^ 


monung,  and  the  iaa.fc„„ 

%  »pon  the  gra«    1  ?     '*  '"^''^  °"^n. 

*e  threads  of  which  I  ^"^^  "^"""'^  on 
the  flower  were  s^  ,'  '"'^^^^  ^'"ttd 

^^  >-' the  air  soi   L:^- ;^^  as 

"P-then^andth  :^„^^7^*-Iga^ 
Jung  among  the  bu^hr^W  i"**  ^^''^  *'"" 
^«en  tie  wort  of  th^^o,  "^  '"'^'  ^^^^ 

.''"J^adethen^totThT"""'*'^"'''' 
*«  bright  dewd  Js  T    ^'^  '^'^  '"''d  Strang 

'""■^fathertoldn^     ItZ^'r"^'^'- 
pming-bi«&;  and  onf  T  "^  "^°«^  *'^«t 

K  -,  and  egg,  not  K;'f  I^^  -* 

W  the  little  It^f"^  *'  *«  ^dea  of 

'^  «'d  egg^  and  Mis.  J^         ,: 


^.      *♦> 


t, 


Z' 


'^*.. 


'1»,.^ 


t^M^L^lWi.  "UK  f^       '      J- 


tl; 


^ 


' 

?•"'' 

fs 

•. 

1 

>      ,1 

1: 

178 


■s;7'--.pf^:y,V 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


"■r:^.' 


V 

4^. 


zer  said,  "  There  is  a  wild  flower*  that  is  known 
to  the  Canadians  by  the  name  of  the  humming- 
flower,  on  account  of  the  fondness  which  those 
birds  evince  for  it.  This  plant  grows  on  the 
moist  banks  of  creeks.  It  is  very  beautiful,  of 
a  bright  orance-scarlet  colour.  The  stalks  and 
stem  of  the  pmnt  are  almost  transparent ;  some 
call  it  speckled  jewels,  for  the  bright  blossoms 
are  spotted  with  dark  purple,  and  some,*touch- 
me-not." 

"  That  is  a  droll  name,  nurse,"  said  Mary.* 
"Does  it  prick  one's  finger  like  a  thistle?" 

"  No,  my  dear ;  but  when  the  seed-pods  are 
nearly  ripe,  if  you  touch  them,  they  spring  open 
and  curl  into  little  rings,  and  the  seed  drops 
out." 

"  Nurse,  when  you  see  any  of  these  curious 
flowers,  will  you  show  them  to  me?" 

Mrs.  Frazer  said  they  would  soon  be  in  bloom, 
and  promised  Mary  to  bring  her  some,  and  to, 
show  her  the  singular  manner  in  Which  the  podjl 
burst.     "  But,  my  dear,  said  she,  "  the  gardenerj 

^SoH  me  tangere,  Canadian  Balsam. 


'««*' 


•^^t',i  tn. 


•wr*-         s    IV 


iAi 


>;-'■-  .  V'"  A  '"'• : ':' 


sm^ 


THE  HUMMING-BIRD. 


179 


^-r. 


will  show  you  the  same  thing  in  the  greenhouse. 
As  soon  as  the  seed-pods  of  the  balsams  in  the 
pots  begin  to  harden  they  will  spring  and  curl, 
if  touched,  and  drop  the  seeds  like  the  wild 
plant,  for  they  belong  to  the  same  family.  But 
it  is  time  for  your  ladyship  to  go  in." 

When  Mary  returned  to  the  school-room,  her 
governess  read  to  her  some  interesting  accounts 
of  the  habits  of  the  humming-bird. 

"  *  This  lively  little  feathered  gem — ^for  in  its 
hues  it  unites  the  brightness  of  the  emerald,  the 
richness  of  the  ruby,  and  the  lustre  of  the  topaz 
— includes  in  its  wide  range  more  than  one 
hundred  species.  It  is  the  smallest,  and  at  the 
same  time  the  most  brilliant,  of  all  the  Ameri- 
can birds.  Its  head-quarters  m^ay  be  said  to  be 
among  the  glowing  flowers  and  luxurious  fruits 
of  the  torrid  zone  and  the  tropics.  But  one 
species,  the  ruby-throated,  is  widely  diffused, 
and  is  a  summer  visitor  ail  over  North  Amer- 
ica, even  within  the  Arctic  Circle,  where,  for  a 
brief  space  of  time,  it  revels  in  the  ardent  heat 
of  the  short-lived  summer  of  the  North.    Like 


■-%  If 


v;'  -^S^ 


X' 


.■■ki  '! 


fi 


.tri^"'; 


..%., 


:,«,^ 
■iM 


V  y 


1  i 


180 


•  THB  OAITADIAN  FOBEST. 


the  cuckoo,  she  follows  the  summer  whererer 


she  flies. 


.■^f^.'r'r  •-;  r  i/^fj.*  ?#i.,W^-"^*^^ 


"  *  The  ruby-throated  humming-bird*  is  the 
only  species  that  is  known  in  Canada.  With  ug 
it  builds  and  breeds,  and  then  returns  to  sum^ 
mer  skies  and  warmer  airs.  The  length  of  the 
humming-bird  is  only  three  inches  and  a  half, 
and  four  and  a  quarter  in  extent,  from  one  tip 
of  the  wing  to  the  other.  When  on  the  wing, 
the  bird  has  the  form  of  a  cross,  the  wings 
forming  no  curve,  though  the  tail  is  depressed 
during  the  time  that  it  is  poised  in  the  act 
of  sucking  the  honey  of  the  flower.  The 
tongue  is  long  and  slender;  the  bill  long  and 
(Straight;  the  legs  are  very  short,  so  that  the 
feet  are  scarcely  visible  when  on  the  wing. 
They  are  seldom  seen  walking,  but  rest  on 
the  slender  sprigs  when  tired.  The  flight  ia 
BO  rapid  that  it  seems  without  effort.  The 
humming  sound  is  produced  by  the  wing,  iii| 
the  act  of  keeping  itself  balanced  while  feed- 
ing in  this  position.    They  resemble  the  hawk* 


'-v.^. 


idii)al«M«ui«*«iH<MawiilB(taiii0i^^ 


CA^3^)IAN  Hpaf l^ING-W^. 


m 


H 


moth,  i^hich  also  keeps  up  a  constant  vibratory 
motion  -yirith  its'  wings.  This  httlq  creature  is 
of  a  temper  as  fierce  and  fiery  as  its  plumes, 
often  attacking  birds  of  treble  its  size ;  but  it 
seems  very  little  disturbed  by  the  ne^  ap- 
proach of  tl^e  human  species,  ofbe^  entering 
open  windows,  and  hovering  around  the  flowers 
in  the  flower-stand ;  it  hjas  even  been  known  to 
approach  the  vase  on  the  table,  and  insert  it? 
bill  among  the  flowers,  quit^  fearless  of  those 
who  sat  in  the  room.  Sometimes  these  bea,uti- 
fill  creatures  have  suffered  themselves  ,tQ  l^ 
captured  by  the  hand. 

"  *  The  nest  of  the  ruby-throated  humming- 
I  bird  is  usually  built  on  ^  niossy  bra,nc];i.  At 
first  sight  it  looks  like  a  tu^  of  grey  lichens; 
but  when  closely  examined,  shows  both  care 
Imf-  skill  in  its  conslHction,  the  oiiteir  w^ 
being  of  fine,  bluish  lichens  cemented  together, 
arid  the  interior  lined  with  the  silken  threads 
of  the  milk- weed,  the  velvety  down  of  the  tall 
mullein,  or  the  brown  hair-like  filaments  of  the 
fern.    These,  or  similar  soft  materials,  form  the 

bed  of  the  tiny  young  ones.    The  eggs  are 
16 


182 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


l: 


wMte,  two  in  number,  and  about  the  size  of  a 
pea,  but  oblong  in  shape.  Tlie  parents  hatch 
their  eggs  in  about  ten  days,  and  in  a  week  the 
little  ones  are  able  to  fly,  though  the  old  birds 
continue  to  supply  them  with  honey  for  some 
time  longer.  The  Mexican  Indians  give  the 
name  of  sunbeam  to  the  humming-bird,  either 
in  reference  to  its  bright  plumage  or  its  love  of 
sunshine. 

"  *  The  young  of  the  humming-bird  does  not 
attain  its  gay  plumage  till  the  second  year. 
The  male  displays  the  finest  colours — ^the  ruby 
necklace  being  confined  to  the  old  male  bird 
The  green  and  coppery  lustre  of  the  feathers  is 
also  finer  in  the  male  bird.' " 

Mary  was  much  pleased  with  what  she  had! 
heard  about  the  humming-bird,  and  she  liked] 
the  name  of  sunbean  for  this  lovely  creatine 


■•V.^^^iSl^'i^^;^ 


AURORA  BOREALIS. 


188 


CHAPTER  XII. 


AURORA  B0RBALI8,  OR  NORTHERN  LIGHTS,  MOST  FRB- 
QUBNTLT  SEEN  IN  NORTHERN  CLIMATES — CALLED 
MERRY  DANCERS — ROSE  TINTS — TINT-LIKE  APPEAR* 
ANCE LITTLE   MART   FRIGHTENED. 

/^NE  evening,  jnst  as  Mrs.  Frazer  was  pre-* 
paring  to  undress  little  Mary,  Miss  Camp- 
bell, her  governess,  came  into  the  nursery,  and 
taking  the  little  girl  by  the  hand,  led  her  to  an 
open  balcony,  and  bade  her  look  out  on  the  sky 
towards  the  north,  where  a  low,  dark  arch,  sur- 
mounted by  an  irregular  border,  like  a  silver 
fringe,  was  visible.  For  some  moments  Mary 
stood  silently  regarding  this  singular  appear- 
ance; at  length  she  said,  "It  is  a  rainbow, 
Miss  Campbell ;  but  where  is  the  sun  that  you 
told  me  shone  into  the  drops  of  rain  to  make 
tlie  pretty  colours?" 

"  It  is  not  a  rainbow,  my  dear ;  the  sun  has 
been  long  set." 


wm 


;  if .. 


184 


THE  CANADIAN  F0RS8T. 


"Can  the  moon  make  rainbows  at  night?" 
asked  the  little  girl. 

"  The  moon  does  sometimes,  but  very  rarely, 
make  what  is  called  a  lunar  rainbow.  Luna 
was  the  ancient  name  for  the  moon ;  but  the 
axch  you  now  see  is  caused  neither  by  the  light 
of  the  sun  nor  of  the  moon,  but  is  known 
by  the  name  of  Aurora  Borealis,  or  Northern 
Lights.  The  word  Aurora  means  morning,  or 
da\^n ;  and  Botealis,  northern.  You  know,  iriy 
deftt,  what  is  meant  by  the  word  dawn;  it  is 
the  light  that  is  seen  in  the  sky  before  the  sun 
rises." 

Mary  replied,  "Yes,  Miss  Campbell,  I  have 
often  seen  the  sun  rise,  and  once  very  early  too, 
when  I  was  ill,  and  could  not  sleep ;  for  nurse 
lifted  me  in  her  arms  out  of  bed,  and  took  me 
to  the  window.  The  sky  was  all  over  of  a 
bright  golden  colour,  with  streaks  of  rosy  red ; 
and  nurse  said,  *  It  is  dawn ;  the  sun  will  soon 
be  up.'  And  I  saw  the  beautiful  sun  rise  from 
behind  the  trees  and  hills.  He  fcame  up  so 
gloriously,  larger  than  when  we  see  him  in  the 


AURORA   BOREALIS.  jgg 

Mother.  ""'  *"''  •""  night  oertifleth 

™p.p:tl".t"  "'"°''  "»'  '-^"'«''  -»«"  thei, 
which-comtto  forth  a'l'at.v?  "'''°™'«"«  fo"-  the  ran, 

' «»  give  light  iulTLT'J     "  *'^  ^^"« 

-"-absent    T,.  U,U  o.^^Z^^ 
peahs  IS  so  soft  and  beautifn]   .i.  ^^^'''^^  ^o* 


186 


THS  C/jffABIAN  FOREST. 


"  The  wild  beasts  and  birds  must  be  glad  of 
the  pretty  lights/'  said  the  child  thoughtfully; 
for  Mary's  young  heart  always  rejoiced  when 
she  thought  that  God's  gifts  could  be  shared 
by  the  beasts  of  the  field  and  the  fowls  of  the 
air,  as  well  as  by  mankind. 

"  Look  now,  my  dear,"  said  Miss  Campbell, 
d^Vecting  the  attention  of  her  pupil  to  the  hori- 
zon; "what  a  change  has  taken  place  whilst 
we  have  been  speaking.  See,  the  arch  is  send- 
ing up  long  shafts  of  light;  now  they  divide, 
and  shift  from  side  to  side,  gliding  along  among 
the  darker  portions  of  vapour,  like  moving 
pillars.'' 

"  Ah  I  there,  there  they  go  I"  cried  the  little 
girl,  clapping  her  hands  with  delight.  "See, 
nurse,  how  the  pretty  lights  chase  each  other, 
and  dance  about  I  Up  they  gof  higher  and 
higher  I  How  pretty  they  look  I  but  :iiow  they 
are  gone.  They  are  fading  away,;  I  am  so 
sorry,"  said  the  child  despondingly^  for  a  sud- 
den cessation  had  taken  place  in  the  motior«| 
of  the  heavens. 

"We  will  go  in  for  a  little  time,  my  dear," 


said  ] 
Great 
aerial 

same 
and  It 
"Ye 

that  th 

about  1 

ignoran 

the  cold 

is  ilium 

Borealis, 

I  have 

%hts  fo 


AURORA  BOREALIS. 


187 


ihe  tori- 
;e  whilst 
is  send- 
j  divide, 
ig  among 
moving 

the  little 
b.     '^See, 
,ch  other, 
gher  and 
^ow  they 
I  am  so! 
for  a  snd^ 
motior"! 


said  her  governess ;  "  and  then  look  out  again. 
Great  changes  take  place  sometimes  in  these 
aerial  phenomena  in  a  few  minutes. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Mary,  "  these  lights  are  the 
same  that  the  peasants  of  Northern  England 
and  Ireland  call  the  Merry  Dancers." 

"Yes,  they  are  the  same;  and  they  fancy 
that  they  are  seen  when  war  and  troubles  are 
about  to  break  out.  But  this  idea  is  a  very 
ignorant  one ;  for  were  that  the  case,  some  of 
the  cold  countries  of  the  world,  where  the  sky 
is  illumined  night  after  night  by  the  Aurora 
Borealis,  would  be  one  continual  scene  of  misery. 
I  have  seen  in  this  country  a  succe&dion  of  these 
lights  for  four  or  five  successive  nights.  This 
phenomenon  owes  its  origin  to  ehctncity,  which 
is  a  very  wonderful  agent  in  nature,  and  exists 
in  various  bodies,  perhaps  in  all  created  things. 
It  is  this  that  shoots  across  the  sky  in  the  form 
of  lightning,  and  causes  the  thunder  to  be 
heard;  circulates  in  the  air  we  breathe;  occa- 
sions whirlwinds,  waterspouts,  earthquakes,  and 
makes  one  substance  attract  another. 

"  Look  at  this  piece  of  amber ;  if  I  rub  it  on 


;i 


m 


188 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


i-i 


the  table,  it  will  become  warm  to  the  touch. 
Now  I  will  take  a  bit  of  thread,  and  hold  near 
it.  See,  the  thread  moves  towards  the  amber, 
and  clings  to  it.  Sealing-wax,  and  many  other 
substances,  when  heated,  have  this  property. 
Some  bodies  give  out  flashes  and  sparks  by 
being  rubbed.  If  you  stroke  a  black  cat 
briskly  in  the  dark,  you  will  see  faint  flashes 
of  light  come  from  her  fur;  and  on  very  cold 
nights  in  the  winter  season,  flannels  that  are 
worn  next  the  skin  crackle,  and  give  sparks 
when  taken  off  and  shaken." 

These  things  astonished  Mary.  She  tried 
the  experiment  with  the  amber  and  thread, 
and  was  much  amused  by  seeing  the  thread 
attracted,  and  wanted  to  see  the  sparks  from 
the  cat's  back,  only  there  happened,  unfortun- 
ately, to  be  no  black  cat  or  kitten  in  Govern- 
ment Hous:.  Mrs.  Frazer,  however,  promised 
to  procure  a  beautiful  black  kitten  for  her,  that 
she  might  enjoy  the  singular  sight  of  the  elec- 
tric sparks  from  its  coat;  and  Mary  wished 
winter  were  come,  that  she  might  see  the  sparks 
from  her  flannel  petticoat,  and  hear  the  sounds. 


ii 


AUROBA  BOREALIS. 


189 


toucli. 
d  near 
amber, 
y  otlier 
roperty. 
irks  by 
ick   cat 
t  flasbes 
ery  cold 
tbat  are 
e  sparks 

She  tried 
I  tbread, 
e  tbread 
•ks  from 
infortun- 
Govern- 
Ipromised 
ber,  tbat 
tbe  elec- 
wisbed 
.e  sparks 
e  sonnds. 


"  Let  us  now  go  and  look  out  again  at  tbe 
sky,"  said  Miss  Campbell;  and  Mary  skipped 
joyfully  tbrougb  tbe  Frencb  window  to  tbe  bal- 
cony, but  ran  back,  and  flinging  her  arms  about 
ber  nurse,  cried  out  in  accents  of  alarm  "  Nurse, 
nurse,  tbe  sky  is  all  closing  togetber  I  Ob  Miss 
Campbell,  wbat  sball  we  do  ?" 

"  There  is  no  cause  for  fear,  my  dear  child ; 
do  not  be  frightened.     There  is  nothing  to  harm 


V 


us. 

Indeed,  during  the  short  time  they  had  been 
absent,  a  great  and  remarkable  change  had  taken 
place  in  the  appearance  of  the  sky.    The  elec- 
tric fluid  bad  diffused  itself  over  the  face  of  the 
whole  heavens ;  the  pale  colour  of  the  streamers 
liad  changed  to  bright  rose,  pale  violet,  and 
greenish  yellow.     At  the  zenith,  or  tbat  part 
more  immediately  over  head,  a  vast  ring  of  deep 
indigo  was  presented  to  the  eye ;  from  this  swept 
down,  as  it  were,  a  flowing  curtain  of  rosy  light, 
which  wavered  and  moved  incessantly  as  if 
[agitated  by  a  gentle  breeze,  though  a  perfect 
stillness  reigned  through  tbe  air.     The  abiid'a 
young  heart  was  awed  by  this  sublime  spectacle ; 


190 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


it  seemed  to  her  as  if  it  were  indeed  the  throne 
of  the  Great  Creator  of  the  world  that  she  was 
gazing  upon;  and  she  veiled  her  face  in  her 
nurse's  arms,  and  trembled  exceedingly  even  as 
the  children  of  Israel  when  the  fire  of  Mount 
Sinai  was  revealed,  and  they  feared  to  behold 
the  glory  of  the  Most  High  God.  After  a  while, 
Mary,  encouraged  by  the  cheerful  voices  of  her 
governess  and  nurse,  ventured  to  look  up  to 
watch  the  silver  stars  shining  dimly  as  from 
beneath  a  veil,  and  she  whispered  to  herself 
the  words  that  her  governess  had  before  repeated 
to  her,  "  The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God, 
and  the  firmament  showeth  his  handywork."* 

*  Singularly  splendid  exhibitions  of  Aurora  Borealis  were 
visible  in  the  month  of  August,  1889;  in  August,  1851; 
and  again  on  the  2l8t  February,  1852.  The  colours  were 
rosy  r  :d,  varied  with  other  prismatic  colours. 

But  the  most  singular  feature  was  the  ring-like  circle  from 
which  the  broad  streams  of  light  seemed  to  flow  down  in  a 
curtain  that  appeared  to  reach  from  heaven  to  earth.  la 
looking  upwards,  the  sky  had  the  appearance  of  a  tent  nar- 
rowed to  a  small  circle  at  the  top,  which  seemed  to  be  the 
centre  of  illimitable  space. 

Though  we  listened  with  great  attention,  none  of  the 
crackling  sounds  that  some  Northern  travellers  have  de- 
clared to  accompany  the  Aurora  Borealis  could  be  heard; 


AUBORA  BOBEALIS. 


191 


throne 
ae  was 
in  her 
3ven  as 
Mount 
behold 
a  while, 
3  of  her 
i  up  to 
as  from 
>  herself 
repeated 
of  God, 
rork."* 


After  a  little  while,  Mrs.  Frazer  thought  it 
better  to  put  Mary  to  bed,  as  she  had  been  up 
much  longer  than  usual,  and  Miss  Campbell 
was  afraid  lest  the  excitement  should  make  her 
ill;  but  the  child  did  not  soon  fall  asleep,  for- 
her  thoughts  were  full  of  the  strange  and  glori- 
ous things  she  had  seen  that  night. 

neither  did  any  one  experience  any  of  the  disagreeable  bodily 
sensations  that  are  often  felt  during  thunder-storms.  The 
atmosphere  was  unusually  calm,  and  in  two  of  the  thi«« 
instances  warm  and  agreeable. 


)realis  were 
rust,  1851; 
)lour8  were 

I  circle  from 

down  in  a 

earth.    In 

■  a  tent  nar- 

Id  to  be  the 

aone  of  the  | 
^rs  have  de- 
be  beard; 


Ni!''! 


i   i 


!       *: 


''m 


:'.\\.,...: 


'i'^    •■  ^ 


THE  OANAPUK  FOREST. 


\'; 


CHAPTEll    XIII.  » 


jnHAW^JSRRnBS — OANADIAV   WI^^D  FHUITS — WILD  HASP- 

BBKRISS THE     HUNTER     AND     THE     LOST     CHILD — 

CRANBERRIES— rORANBERRT  MARSHES NUTS. 

^^NE  dfty  Mary's  wjrse  brpuglit  Jj^er  a  spxall 
^^  Indian  basket  filled  with  ripe  strawberries. 

"Nurse,  where  did  yov  get  these  ^ce  straw- 
berries?" said  the  little  girl,  peeping  beneath  the 
fresh  leaves  with  which  they  were  covered. 

"I  bought  them  from  a  little  Indian  squaw, 
in  the  strSet;  she  had  brought  them  from  a 
wooded  meadow,  some  miles  off,  my  dear.  They 
are  very  fine;  see,  they  are  as  large  as  those 
that  the  gardener  sent  in  yesterday  from  the 
forcing-house,  and  these  wild  ones  have  grown 
without  any  pains  having  been  bestowed  upon 
them."  » 

"  I  did  not  think,  ntirse,  that  wild  strawberries 
could  have  been  so  fine  as  these;  may  I  taste 


them?" 


\;' 


V  Av  ■ 


,t«./i-i;y4?siuS.::^-t|    r-^^'i^M:     d':,^:* 


r;-:  :.;»  .■'*i„.f 


■o  *ki*^.'^i^^\j.\,Ji.:y^  ->2'W(*it''rJi»;.'^jtf!aiJ 


■  'T^'P-'^'f'S^Wf^^T  ^Tfl^'^^f" 


'    / 


VnU>  STBAWBS^ISa 


198 


fc-  -- 


^'  ^■ 


\  ■ 

Lp  ^Asp- 
child — 
k 

a.  si?aall 
Ybemes. 
ae  straw* 
leath  tlie 

;red. 

squaw, 

from  a 
[r.    They 

as  those 
[from  the 

e  grown 

^ed  upon 

ft 

iwberries 
I  taste 


Mrs.  Frazer  said  she  might.  "  These  are  not 
80  large,  so  red,  or  so  sweet  as  some  that  I  have' 
gathered  when  I  lived  at  home  with  my  father/' 
said  the  nurse.  "  I  have  seen  acres  and  acres  of 
strawberries,  as  large  as  the  elirly  scarlet  that  are 
sold  so  high  in  the  market,  on  the  Eice  Lake 
plains.  When  the  farmers  have  ploughed  a 
fallow  on  the  Bioe  Lake  plains,  the  following 
summer  it  will  be  covered  with  a  crop  of  the 
finest  strawberries.  I  have  gathered  pailfuls 
day  after  day ;  these,  however,  have  been  partly 
cultivated  by  the  plough  breaking  up  the  sod ; 
but  they  seem  as  if  sown  by  the  hand  of  nature. 
These  fruits,  and  many  sorts  of  flowers,  appear 
on  the  new  soil  that  were  never  seen  there  before. 
After  a  fallow  has  been  chopped,  logged,  and 
burnt,  if  it  be  left  for  a  few  years,  trees,  shrubs, 
and  plants  will  cover  it,  unlike  those  that  grew 
there  before." 

"That  is  curious,"  said  the  child.     "Does 
Ood  sow  the  seeds  in  the  new  ground  ?" 

"  My  dear,  no  doubt  they  come  from  Him ; 

for  He  openeth  His  hand,  and  fiUeth  all  things 

living  with  plenteousness.     My  father,  who 
It  H 


/■ 


■■mr 


*:»^.^hix!l-iiijuxjt'ifi£)»l^^ 


194 


THE  CANADIAN  FOBEST. 


. 


thouglit  a  great  deal  on  these  subjects,  said 
that  the  seeds  of  many  plants  may  fall  upon  the 
earth,  and  yet  none  of  them  take  root  till  the 
soil  be  favourable  for  their  growth.  It  may  be 
that  these  seeds  had  lain  for  years,  preserved  in 
the  earth,  till  the  forest  was  cleared  away,  and 
the  sun,  air,  and  rain  caused  them  to  spring  up. 
Or  the  earth  may  still  bring  forth  the  herb  of 
the  field,  ailer  its  ftind,  as  in  the  day  of  the  cre- 
ation; but  whether  it  be  so  or  not,  we  must 
bless  the  Lord  for  His  goodness  and  for  the 
blessings  that  He  hath  given  us  at  all  times." 

"  Are  there  many  sorts  of  wild  fruits  fit  to 
eat,  nurse,  in  this  country?  Please,  will  you 
tell  me  all  that  you  know  about  them?" 

"  There  are  so  many,  Mary,  that  I  am  afraid 
I  shall  weary  you  before  I  have  told  you  half 
of  them." 

"  Nurse,  I  shall  not  be  tired,  for  I  like  to  hear 
about  fruits  and  flowers  very  much;  and  my 
dear  mamma  likes  you  to  tell  me  all  you  know 
about  the  plants,  trees,  birds  and  beasts  of 
Canada."  * 

"Besides  many  sorts  of  strawberries,  there 


:y^t'.( 


■•'    1;V   P'3'    .'"1^7  .~'  ■,'"\*-7«"'i; 


CANADIAN  FRUIT. 


195 


Are  wild  currants,  both  black  and  red,  and  many 
kinds  of  wild  gooseberries,"  said  Mrs.  Frazer : 
"  some  grow  on  wastes  by  the  roadside,  in  dry 
soil,  others  in  swamps;  but  most  gooseberries 
axe  covered  with  thorns,  which  grow  not  only 
on  the  wood,  but  on  the  berries  themselves." 

"  I  would  not  eat  those  disagreeable,  thorny 
gooseberries;  they  would  prick  my  tongue," 
said  the  little  girl. 

"They  cannot  be  eaten  without  first  being 
scalded.  The  settlers*  wives  contrive  to  make 
good  pies  and  preserves  with  them  by  first 
scalding  the  fruit  and  then  rubbing  it  between 
coarse  linen  cloths;  I  have  heard  these  tarts 
called  thomberry  pies,  which,  I  think,  was  a 
good  name  for  them.  When  emigrants  first 
come  to  Canada,  and  clear  the  backwoods,  they 
have  little  time  to  make  nice  fruit-gardens  for 
themselves,  and  they  are  glad  to  gather  the  wild 
berries  that  grow  in  the  woods  and  swamps  to 
make  tarts  and  preserves,  so  that  they  do  not 
even  despise  the  thorny  gooseberries  or  the  wild 
black  currants.  Some  swamp-gooseberries,  how- 
ever, are  quite  smooth,  of  a  dark  red  colour,  but 


IM 


THE  OAWADIAW  FOREST. 


•    M 


small,  and  they  are  vety  nice  when  ripe.  The 
blossoms  of  the  wild  currants  are  very  beautiful, 
of  a  pale  yellowish  green,  and  hang  down  in 
long,  graceful  branches ;  the  fruit  is  harsh,  but 
makes  wholesome  preserves:  but  there  are 
thorny  currants  as  well  as  thorny  gooseberries ; 
these  have  long,  weak,  trailing  branches;  the 
berries  are  small,  covered  with  stiflf  bristles,  and 
of  a  pale  red  colour.  They  are  not  wholesome ; 
I  have  seen  people  made  very  ill  by  eating 
them ;  I  have  heard  even  of  theii'  dying  in  con- 
sequence of  having  done  so." 

**  I  am  sure,  nurse,  I  will  not  eat  those  wild 
currants,"  said  Mary;  "I  am  glad  you  have 
told  me  about  their  being  poisonous." 

"  This  sort  is  not  often  met  with,  my  dear ; 
and  these  berries,  though  they  are  not  good  for 
man,  doubtless  give  nourishment  to  some  of  the 
wild  creatures  that  seek  their  food  from  God, 
and  we  have  enough  dainties,  and  to  spare, 
without  them. 

"  The  red  raspberry  is  one  of  the  most  com- 
mon and  the  most  useful  to  us  of  the  wild  fruits. 
It  grows  in  abundance  all  over  the  country,  by 


BBAB-BERRIES. 


197 


fclie  roadside,  in  the  half-opened  woods,  on  up- 
turned roots,  or  in  old  neglected  clearings ;  there 
is  no  place  so  wild  but  it  will  grow,  wherever 
its  roots  can  find  a  crevice.  With  maple  sugar, 
the  farmers'  wives  never  need  lack  a  tart,  nor  a 
dish  of  fruit  and  cream.  The  poor  Irish  emi- 
grants' children  go  out  and  gather  pailfuls,  which 
they  carry  to  the  towns  and  villages  to  sell. 
The  birds,  too,  live  upon  the  fruit,  and,  flying 
away  with  it  to  distant  places,  help  to  sow  the 
seed.  A  great  many  small  animals  eat  the  ripe 
raspberry,  for  even  the  raccoon  and  great  black 
bear  come  in  for  their  share." 

"The  black  bears  I  Oh,  nurse,  oh,  Mrs. 
Frazerl"  exclaimed  Mary,  in  gi'eat  astonish- 
ment.    "  What  I  do  bears  eat  raspberries  ?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  they  do.  Bears  are  fond  of 
all  ripe  fruits.  The  bear  resembles  the  hog  in 
all  its  tastes  very  closely;  both  in  their  A\ild 
state  will  eat  flesh,  grain,  fruit,  and  roots. 
There  is  a  small  red  berry  in  the  woods  that 
is  known  by  the  name  of  the  bear-berry,*  of 

*  Arbutut  ursurai — "  Einnikinnick,"  Indian  name. 
There  is  a  story  about  a  bear  and  an  Indian  hunter, 
17* 


U 


,  T" 


198 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


which  they  say  the  young  bears  are  particu- 
larly fond." 

"  I  should  be  afraid  of  going  to  gather  rasp- 
berries, nurse,  for  fear  of  the  bears  coming  to 
eat  them  too."  .'^j 


which  -will  show  how  bean  eat  berries.  It  is  from  the 
Journal  of  Peter  Jacobs,  the  Indian  Missionary : — 

"  At  sunrise  next  morning,"  he  says,  "  we  tried  to  land, 
but  the  water  was  so  full  of  shoals,  we  could  not,  without 
wading  a  great  distance. 

"  The  beach  before  us  was  of  bright  sand,  and  the  sun 
was  about,'  when  I  saw  an  object  moving  on  the  shore ;  it 
api>  ared  to  be  a  man,  and  seemed  to  be  making  signals  of 
distress.  We  were  all  weary  and  hungry,  but  thinking  it 
was  a  fellow  creature  in  distress,  we  pulled  towards  him. 
Judge  of  our  surprise  when  the  stranger  piwed  to  be  an 
enormous  bear. 

"  lie  was  seated  on  his  hams,  and  what  we  thought  his 
signals  were  his  raising  himself  on  his  hind  legs  to  pull 
down  the  berries  from  a  high  bush,  and,  with  his  paws  full, 
sitting  down  again  to  eat  tliem  at  his  leisure. 

"Thus  he  ontinued  daintily  enjoying  his  ripe  fruit  in 
the  posture  some  lapdogs  are  taught  to  assume  while  eat- 
ing. On  we  pulled,  and  forgot  our  hunger  and  weariness; 
the  bear  still  continued  breakfasting. 

"  We  got  as  close  on  shore  as  the  shoals  would  permit, 
and  John,  (on<)  of  the  Indians,)  taking  my  double*barreled 
gun,  leaped  into  the  water,  gun  in  hand,  and  gained  the 


1  We  find  some  onrtous  '^ipressions  in  this  Journal,  for  Poter  Jacobs 
tow  ladiMi,  writing  iiut  ^^^  owp,  ^ut  a  foreign  language. 


YOoNO  HUNTER. 


199 


"YHh  liuntere  know  that  the  bears  ai  par- 
tial to  this  fruit,  and  oflen  seek  them  in  large 
thickets,  where  they  grow.  A  young  gentle- 
man, Mary,  once  w(jnt  oat  shooting  game,  in 
the  province  of  Inv.v  B.-answick,  in  the  month 


permit, 
►arreled 
led  the 


beach.    Som:    lead  brt  shwood  hid  the  bear  from  John's 
sight,  but  fr  nn  .  ae  canoe  we  could  see  both  John  and  the* 
bear. 

"The  bear  now  discovered  us,  and  advanced  towards  us; 
anu  John,  not  seeing  him  for  the  bush,  ran  along  the  bench 
towards  him.  The  weariness  from  pulling  all  night,  and 
having  eatpj  no  food,  made  me  lose  my  presence  of  mind, 
for  I  now  remembered  that  the  gun  was  only  loaded  with 
duck-shot,  and  you  might  as  well  meet  a  bear  with  a  gun 
loaded  with  peas. 

"  John  was  in  danger,  and  we  strained  at  our  paddles  to 
get  to  his  assistance ;  but  as  the  bear  was  a  very  large  one, 
and  as  we  had  no  other  firearms,  we  should  have  been  but 
poor  helps  to  John  in  the  hug  of  a  wounded  bear.  The  bear 
was  at  the  other  side  of  the  brush-heap :  John  heard  the  dry 
branches  cracking,  and  he  dodged  into  a  hollow  under  a 
bush.  The  bear  passed,  and  was  coursing  along  the  sand, 
but  as  he  passed  by  where  John  lay,  bang  went  the  gun. 
The  bear  was  struck. 

*  We  saw  him  leap  i,urough  the  smoke  to  the  very  spot 
•  1.'>  '  we  hftu  I'dit  seen  John.  We  held  our  breath  ;  but  in- 
stead of  the  cry  of  agony  we  expected  to  hear  from  John, 
bang  went  the  gun  again — John  is  not  yet  caught  Our 
canoe  rushed  through  the  water. —  *  d  n  ght  yet  be  in  time ; 
but  my  paddle  fell  from  my  hand  ^ith  joy  as  I  saw  John 
pop  his  head  above  the  bush,  and  with  a  shout  poiat  to  tho 


200 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


of  July,  when  the  weather  was  warm,  and  there 
were  plenty  of  wild  berries  ripe.    He  had  been, 
ut  for  many  hours,  and  at  last  found  himself 
on  the  banks  of  a  creek.    But  the  bridge  he 
had  been  used  to  cross  was  gone,  having  been 


11^ 


;■? 


,■!  >  1 


aide  of  the  log  on  which  he  stood,  '  There  he  lieSi  dead 
enough.'  We  were  thankful  indeed  to  our  Great  Preserver/* 
—Peter  Jacobus  Journal. 

Though  fruit  and  vegetables  seem  to  be  the  natural  food 
of  ^the  bear,  they  also  devour  flesh,  and  even  fish, — a  fact 
of  which  the  good  Indian  Missionary  assures  us ;  and  that 
being  new  to  my  young  readers,  I  shall  give  them  in  his 
own  words : — 

"  A  few  evenings  after  we  left  the  •  Rock,'  while  the  men 
were  before  me  '  tracking,'  (towing  the  canoe,)  by  pulling 
her  along  by  a  rope  from  the  shore,  I  observed  behind  a 
rock  in  the  river,  what  I  took  to  be  a  black  fox.  I  stole 
upon  it  as  quietly  as  possible,  hoping  to  get  a  shot,  but  the 
animal  saw  me,  and  waded  to  the  shore.  It  turned  out  to 
be  a  young  bear  fishing.  The  bear  is  a  great  fisherman. 
His  mode  of  fishing  is  very  curious.  He  wades  into  a  cur- 
rent, and  seating  himself  upright  on  his  hams,  lets  the  water 
come  about  up  to  his  shoulders ;  he  patiently  waits  until  the 
little  fishes  come  along  and  rub  themselves  against  his  sides, 
he  neizes  them  instantly,  gives  them  a  nip,  and  with  his  left 
paw  tosses  them  over  his  shoulder  to  the  shore.  His  left 
paw  is  always  the  one  used  for  tossing  ashore  the  produce 
of  his  fishing.  Feeling  is  the  sen^e  of  which  Bruin  makes 
use  here,  not  sight. 

"  The  Indians  of  that  part  say  that  the  bear  catches  stur- 
geon when  spawning  in  the  shoal  water ;  but  the  only  fish 


7r-.    ,.'  vjiBi'-;-,..--;  -.-.■._«  K^-  "  ■...-.ijn.^.,^--|-«^  , „...-,, ■^.  ,  ^^ 


AN  ESOAFE. 


201 


ttere 
been, 
mself 
Lge  lie 
r  been 

es,  dead 
Bserver/ 

iral  food 
, — a  fact 
and  that 
ira  in  hia 

3  the  men 
,y  pulling 
behind  a 
I  stole 
|t,  bnt  the 
sd  out  to 
isherman. 
ito  a  cur- 
|the  water 
until  the 
his  sides, 
;h  his  left 
His  left 
produce 

lin  makes 

Uhes  stur- 
only  fi*h 


swept  away  "by  lieavy  rains  in  the  spring. 
Passing  on  a  little  liigher  up,  he  saw  an  old 
clearing  full  of  bushes ;  and  knowing  that  wild 
animals  were  ofi^n  to  be  met  with  in  such  spots, 
he  determined  to  cross  over  and  try  his  luck 
for  a  bear,  a  raccoon,  or  a  young  fawn.  Not 
far  from  the  spot,  he  saw  a  large  fallen  swamp 
elm-tree,  which  made  a  capital  bridge.  Just  aa 
he  was  preparing  to  cross,  he  heard  the  sound 
of  footsteps  on  the  dry  crackling  sticks,  and 
saw  a  movement  among  the  raspberry  bushes; 
his  finger  was  on  the  lock  of  his  rifle  in  an 
instant,  for  he  thought  it  must  be  a  bear  or  a 
deer ;  but  just  as  he  was  about  to  fire,  he  saw  a 
small,  thin,  brown  hand,  all  rod  and  stained 
from  the  juice  of  the  ripe  berries,  reaching 
down  a  branch  of  the  fruit;  his  very  heart 
leaped  within  him  with  fiight,  for  in  another 


that  I  know  of  their  catching,  is  the  sucker :  of  these,  in  the 
months  of  April  and  May,  the  bear  makes  his  daily  break? 
fast  and  supper,  devouring  about  thirty  or  forty  at  a  meal. 
As  soon  as  he  has  caught  a  sufficient  number,  !ic  wudes 
ashore,  and  rega<es  himself  on  the  best  moraels,  wiiich  are 
the  thick  of  the  neck,  behind  the  gills.  The  Indians  often 
shoot  him  when  thus  engaged." — Feter  JaeoVt  Journal,  p.  45. 


> 


lilt 


r  ^' 


202 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


I 


moment  he  would  have  shot  the  poor  little 
child  that,  with  wan,  wasted  face,  was  looking 
at  him  from  between  the  raspberry  bushes.  It 
was  a  little  girl,  about  as  old  as  you  are,  Mary. 
She  was  without  hat  or  shoes,  and  her  clothes 
were  all  in  tatters;  her  hands  and  neck  were 
quite  brown  and  sun-burnt.  She  seemed  fright- 
ened at  first,  and  would  have  hid  herself,  had 
not  the  stranger  called  out  gently  to  her  to  stay, 
and  not  to  be  afraid  ;  and  then  he  hurried  over 
the  log  bridge,  and  asked  her  who  she  was,  and 
where  she  lived.  And  she  said  'she  did  not 
live  anywhere,  for  she  was  lost.'  She  could  not 
tell  how  many  days,  but  she  thought  she  had 
been  seven  nights  out  in  the  woods.  She  had 
been  sent  to  take  some  dinner  to  her  father, 
who  was  at  work  in  the  forest,  but  had  missed 
the  path,  and  gone  on  a  cattle  track,  and  did 
not  find  her  mistake  until  it  was  too  late ;  when 
she  became  frightened,  and  tried  to  get  back, 
but  only  lost  herself  deeper  in  the  woods.  The 
first  night  she  wrapped  her  frock  about  her 
head,  and  lay  down  beneath  the  shelter  of  a 
great  upturned  root.    She  had  eaten  but  little 


.  ^  Vi. 


LOST  CHILD. 


208 


little 

)king 

3.     It 

Mary. 

lothes 
were 

friglit- 

f,  had 

o  stay, 

id  over 

as,  and 

lid  not 
lid  not 

Ihe  had 

)he  had 
father, 
missed 
.nd  did 
I;  when 
back, 
The 
►ut  her 
r  of  a 
Lt  littla 


of  the  food  she  had  in  the  basket  that  day,  for 
it  lasted  her  nearly  two ;  after  it  was  gone,  she 
chewed  some  leaves^  till  she  came  to  the  rasp- 
berry clearing,  and  got  berries  of  several  kinds, 
and  plenty  of  water  to  drink  from  the  creek. 
One  night,  she  said,  she  was  awakened  by  a 
heavy  tramping  near  her,  and  looking  up  in  the 
moonlight,  saw  two  great  black  beasts,  which 
she  thought  were  her  father's  oxen,  and  so  sfte 
sat  up  and  called,  'Buck,'  'Bright,' — ^for^ these 
were  their  names, — ^but  they  had  no  bells,  and 
looked  like  two  great  shaggy  black  dogs ;  they 
stood  on  their  hind  legs  upright,  and  looked  at 
her,  but  went  away.  These  animals  were  bears, 
but  the  child  did  not  know  that,  and  she  said 
she  felt  no  fear — for  she  said  her  prayers  every 
night  before  she  lay  down  to  sleep,  and  sh'^ 
knew  that  God  would  take  care  of  her,  both 
sleeping  and  waking."  * 

"  And  did  the  hunter  take  her  home  ?"  asked 
Mary,  who  was  much  interested  in  the  story. 

•  The  facts  of  this  story  I  met  with,  many  yeai's  ago,  in  a 
provincial  paper.  They  afterwards  appeared  in  a  Canadian 
■ketch,  in  Chambers'  Journal,  contributed  by  me  in  1888. 


i! 


204 


THE  CANADIAU"  TOREST. 


"Yes,  my  dear,  lie  did.  Finding  tbat  the 
poor  little  girl  was  very  weak,  the  young  man 
took  her  on  his  back, — ^fortunately  he  happened 
to  have  a  little  wine  in  a  flask,  and  a  bit  of  dry 
biscuit  in  his  knapsack,  and  this  greatly  revived 
the  little  creature;  sometimes  she  ran  by  his 
side,  while  holding  by  his  coat,  talking  to  her 
new  friend,  seemingly  quite  happy  and  cheer- 
fill,  bidding  him  not  to  be  afraid  even  if  they 
had  to  pass  another  night  in  the  wood ;  but  just 
as  the  sun  was  setting,  they  came  out  of  the 
dark  forest  into  an  open  clearing. 

"  It  was  not  the  child's  home,  but  a  farm 
belonging  to  a  miller  who  knew  her  father,  and 
had  been  in  search  of  her  for  several  days ;  and 
he  and  his  wife  were  very  glad  when  they  saw 
the  lost  child,  and  gladly  showed  her  preserver 
the  way;  and  they  rejoiced  much  when  the 
poor  little  girl  was  restored  safe  and  well  to  her 
sorrowing  parents." 

"  Nurse,"  said  Mary,  "  I  am  glad  the  hunter 
found  the  little  girl.  I  must  tell  my  own  dear 
mamma  that  nice  story.  How  sorry  my  mamma 
and  papa  would  be  to  lose  me  in  the  woods.'' 


THE  WILD  PLUM. 


205 


it  the 
y  man 
)pened 
of  dry 
evived 
by  his 
to  her 
L  cheer- 
if  they 
but  just 
;  of  the 

a  farm 

ler,  ard 
[ys;  and 
Ihey  saw 
[reserver 
hen  the 
In  to  her 

hunter 

iwn  dear 

mamma 

■woods.* 


The  nurse  smiled,  and  said,  "  My  dear  child, 
there  is  no  fear  of  such  an  accident  happening 
to  you.  You  are  not  exposed  to  the  same  trials 
and  dangers  as  the  children  of  poor  emigrants ; 
therefore,  you  must  be  very  grateful  to  God, 
and  do  all  you  can  to  serve  and  please  Him; 
and  when  you  are  able,  be  kind  and  good  to 
those  who  are  not  as  well  off  as  you  are." 

"Are  there  any  other  wild  fruits,  nurse, 
besides  raspberries  and  strawberries,  and  cur- 
rants and  gooseberries?" 

"Yes,  my  dear,  a  great  many  more.     We 

will  begin  with  wild  plums:  these  we  often 

preserve;  and  when  the  trees  are  planted  in 

gardens,  and  taken  care  of,  the  fruit  is  very 

good  to  eat.    The  wild  cherries  are  not  very 

nice ;  but  the  bark  of  the  black  cherry  is  good 

for  agues  and  low  fevers.     The  choke-cherry  is 

very  beautifiil  to  look  at,  but  hurts  the  throat, 

closing  it  up  if  many  are  eaten,  and  making  it 

quite  sore.    The  huckleberry  is  a  sweet,  dark 

blue  berry,  that  grows  on  a  very  delicate  low 

shrub,  the  blossoms  are  very  pretty,  pale  pink 

or  greeiiish  whit©  bells,  the  fruit  is  very  whole- 
18 


11,       .  t 

p        I 


206 


THE  CANADIAN  FOEEST. 


some;  it  grows  on  light  dry  ground,  on  those 
parts  of  the  country  that  are  called  plains  in 
Canada.  The  settlers'  children  go  out  in  parties, 
and  gather  great  quantities,  either  to  eat  or 
dry  for  winter  use.  These  berries  are  a  great 
blessing  to  every  one,  besides  forming  abundant 
food  for  the  broods  of  young  quails  and  part- 
ridges; squirrels,  too,  of  every  kind  eat  them. 
There  are  blackberries  also,  Mary;  and  some 
people  call  them  thimbleberrries." 

"Nurse,  I  have  heard  mamma  talk  about 
blackberries." 

"  The  Canadian  blackberries  are  not  so  sweet, 
I  am  told,  my  dear,  as  those  at  home,  though 
they  are  very  rich  and  nice  tasted;  neither  do 
they  grow  so  high.  Then  there  are  high  bush 
cranberries,  and  low  bush  cranberries.  The 
first  grow  on  a  tall  bush,  and  the  fruit  has  a  fine 
appearance,  hanging  in  large  bunches  of  light 
scarlet,  among  the  dark  green  leaves ;  but  they 
ai\3  very,  very  sour,  and  take  a  great  deal  of 
sugar  to  sweeten  them.  The  low  bush  cran- 
berries grow  on  a  slender  trailing  plant;  the 
blossom  is  very  pretty,  and  the  jfruit  about  the 


GBANBERRIES. 


207 


size  of  a  common  gooseberry,  of  a  dark  purplish 
red,  very  smooth  and  shining;  the  seeds  are 
minute,  and  he  in  the  white  pulp  within  the 
skin;  this  berry  is  not  nice  till  it  is  cooked 
with  sugar.  There  is  a  large  cranberry  marsh 
somewhere  at  the  back  of  Kingston,  where  vast 
quantities  grow.  I  heard  a  young  gentleman 
say  that  he  passed  over  this  tract  when  he  was 
hunting,  while  the  snow  was  on  the  ground, 
and  that  the  red  juice  of  the  dropped  berries 
dyed  the  snow  crimson  beneath  his  feet.  The 
Indians  go  every  year  to  a  small  lake  called 
Buckhom  Lake  many  miles  up  the  river  Oto- 
nabee,  in  the  Upper  Province,  to  gather  cran- 
berries, which  they  sell  to  the  settlers  in  the 
towns  and  villages,  or  trade  away  for  pork, 
flour,  and  clothes.  The  cranberries,  when 
spread  out  on  a  dry  floor,  will  keep  fresh  and 
good  for  a  long  time.  Great  quantities  of  cran- 
berries are  brought  to  England  from  Eussia, 
Norway,  and  Lapland,  in  barrels,  or  large  earth- 
en jars,  filled  with  brine;  but  the  fruit  thus 
roughly  preserved  must  be  drained,  and  washed 
many  times,  and  stirred  with  sugar,  before  it 


m 


,\ 


208 


THE  CANADIAN  FOKEST. 


.*..' 


can  be  put  into  tarts,  or  it  would  be  salt  and  bit- 
ter. I  will  boil  some  cranberries  with  sugar, 
that  you  may  taste  them;  for  they  are  very 
wholesomt." 

Mary  sdd  she  should  like  to  have  some  in 
her  own  garden. 

"  The  cranberry  requires  a  particular  kind  of 
soil,  not  usually  found  in  gardens,  my  dear 
Mary ;  for  as  the  cranberry  marshes  are  often 
covered  with  water  in  the  spring,  I  suppose 
they  need  a  damp,  cool  soil,  near  lakes  or 
rivers;  perhaps  sand,  too,  may  be  good  for 
them.  But  we  can  plant  some  berries,  and 
water  them  well ;  in  a  light  soil  they  may  grow, 
and  bear  fruit,  but  I  am  not  sure  that  they  will 
do  so.  Besides  these  fruits,  there  are  many 
others,  that  are  little  used  by  men,  but  are  of 
great  service  as  food  to  the  birds  and  small  ani- 
mals. There  are  many  kinds  of  nuts,  too — ^fil- 
berts, with  rough  prickly  husks,  walnuts,  but- 
ternuts, and  hickory-nuts ;  these  last  are  large 
trees,  the  nuts  of  which  are  very  nice  to  eat, 
and  the  wood  very  fine  fox  cabinet-work,  and 
for  fire- wood;   the  bark  is  used  for  dyeing. 


A   GREAT  COUNTRT. 


209 


kind  of 
ly  dear 
re  often 
suppose 
lakes  or 
rood  for 
ies,  and 
ly  grow, 
ihey  will 
•e  many 
Lt  are  of 
all  ani- 
too — ^fil- 
^uts,  but- 
xe  large 
!e  to  eat, 
ork,  and 
dyeing. 


Now,  my  dear,  I  think  you  must  be  quite  tired 
with  hearing  so  much  about  Canadian  fruits." 

Mary  said  she  was  glad  to  learn  that  there 
were  so  many  good  things  in  Canada,  for  she 
heard  a  lady  say  to  her  mamma,  that  it  was 
an  ugly  country,  with  nothing  good  or  pretty 
in  it. 

"There  is  something  good  and  pretty  to  be 
found  everywhere,  my  dear  child,  if  people  will 
but  open  their  eyes  to  see  it,  and  their  hearts  to 
enjoy  the  good  things  that  God  has  so  merci- 
fiiUy  spread  abroad  for  us  and  all  his  creatures 
to  enjoy.  But  Canada  is  really  a  fine  country, 
and  is  fast  becoming  a  great  one." 

7  9* 


1 1 


210 


THE  CANADIAN  F0RB8T. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

BARTER'SNAKES — RATTLESNAKES — ANECDOTE  OF  A  LIT- 
TLE  BOY — FISHERMAN  AND  BNAKB — SNAKE  CHARM- 
ERS— SPIDERS LAND-TORTOISE. 


W 


""VrURSE,  I  have  been  so  terrified.  I  was 
walking  in  the  meadow,  and  a  great 
snake — so  big,  I  am  sure" — and  Mary  held  out 
her  arms  as  wide  as  she  could — "  came  ou',  >f 
a  tuft  of  grass.  His  tongue  was  like  a  scarlet 
thread,  and  had  two  sharp  points ;  and,  do  you 
know,  he  raised  his  wicked  head,  and  hissed  at 
me ;  I  was  so  frightened  that  I  ran  away.  I 
think,  Mrs.  Frazer,  it  must  have  been  a  rattle- 
snake. Only  feel  how  my  heart  beats" — and 
the  little  girl  took  her  nurse's  hand,  and  laid  it 
on  her  heart. 

"What  colour  was  the  snake,  my  dear?" 
asked  her  nurse. 

"  It  was  green  and  black,  chequered  all  over; 
and  it  was  very  large,  and  opened  its  mouth  I 


y  V^T-TT'-"" 


~st' 


CANADIAN  SNAEEa 


211 


very  wide,  and  showed  its  red  tongue.  It  would 
have  killed  me  if  it  had  bitten  me,  would  it  not, 
nurse  ?" 

"  It  would  not  have  harmed  you,  my  dear ; 
or  even  if  it  had  bitten  you,  it  would  not  have 
killed  you.  The  chequered  green  snake  of 
Cu-nada  is  not  poisonous.  It  was  more  afraid 
of  you  than  you  were  of  it,  I  make  no  doubt" 
"  Do  you  think  it  was  a  rattlesnake,  nurse  ?" 
"  No,  my  dear ;  there  are  no  snakes  of  that 
kind  in  Lower  Canada,  and  very  few  below 
Toronto.  The  winters  are  too  cold  for  them, 
but  there  are  plenty  in  the  western  part  of  the 
province,  where  the  summers  are  warmer,  and 
the  winters  milder.  The  rattlesnake  is  a  dan- 
gerous reptile,  and  its  bite  causes  death,  unless 
the  wound  be  burnt  or  cut  out.  The  Indians 
apply  different  sorts  of  herbs  to  the  wound. 
They  have  several  plants,  known  by  the  names 
of  rattlesnake  root,  rattlesnake  weed,  and  snake 
root  It  is  a  good  thing  that  the  rattlesnake 
gives  warning  of  its  approach  before  it  strikes 
the  traveller  with  its  deadly  fangs.  Some  peo- 
ple think  that  the  rattle  is  a  sdgn  of  fear,  and 


II 


212 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


that  it  would  not  wound  people,  if  it  were  not 
afraid  they  were  coming  near  to  hurt  it.  I  will 
tell  you  a  story,  Mary,  about  a  brave  little  boy. 
He  went  out  nutting  one  day  with  another  boy 
of  his  own  age ;  an'l  while  they  were  in  the 
grove  gathering  nuts,  a  large  black  snake,  that 
was  in  a  low  tree,  dropped  down  and  suddenly 
coiled  itself  round  the  throat  of  his  companion. 
The  child's  screams  were  dreadful ;  his  eyes  were 
starting  from  his  head  with  pain  and  terror. 
The  other,  regardless  of  the  danger,  opened  a 
clasp-knife  that  he  had  in  his  pocket,  and  seiz- 
ing the  snake  near  the  head,  cut  it  apart,  and  so 
saved  his  friend's  life,  who  was  Tell-nigh  stran- 
gled by  the  tight  folds  of  the  reptile,  which  was 
one  of  a  very  venomous  species,  the  bite  of 
which  generally  proves  fatal." 

"  What  a  brave  little  fellow  I"  said  Mary. 
*'  You  do  not  think  it  was  cruel,  nurse,  to  kill 
the  snake  ?"  she  added,  looking  up  in  Mrs.  Fra- 
zer's  face. 

"No,  Mary,  for  he  did  it  to  save  a  fellow- 
creature  from  a  painful  death ;  and  we  are 
taught  by  God's  word  that  the  soul  of  man  is 


OARTBR-SNAKF. 


215 


re  not 

I  will 
ie  boy. 
ler  boy 

in  the 
ie,  that 
iddenly 
ipanion. 
jres  were 
L  terror, 
pened  a 
and  seiz- 

;,  and  so 
[b  stran- 

icb  was 

bite  of 

Mary. 

to  kill 

[rs.  Fra- 


precioufl  in  the  sight  of  his  Creator.  We  should 
be  cruel  were  we  wantonly  to  inflict  pain  upon 
the  least  of  God's  creat\ires ;  but  to  kill  them  in 
self-defence,  or  for  necessary  food,  is  not  cruel ; 
for  when  God  made  Adam,  He  gave  him  domin- 
ion, or  power,  over  the  beasts  of  the  field  and 
the  fowls  of  the  air,  and  every  creeping  thing. 
It  was  an  act  of  great  courage  and  humanity  in 
the  little  boy,  who  perilled  his  own  life  to  save 
that  of  his  helpless  comrade,  especially  as  he 
was  not  naturally  a  child  of  much  courage,  and 
was  very  much  afraid  of  snakes ;  but  love  for 
his  friend  overcame  all  thought  of  his  own  per- 
sonal danger.* 

"The  large  garter-snake,  that  which  you 
Isaw,  my  dear,  is  comparatively  harmless.  It 
lives  on  toads  and  frogs,  and  robs  the  nests  of 
young  birds,  and  the  eggs  also.  Its  long  forked 
tongue  enables  it  to  catch  insects  of  different 
kinds;  it  will  even  eat  fish,  and  for  that  pur- 


1 


fellow- 

we  are 

man  is 


*  A  fact  related  to  me  by  an  old  gentleman  from  the  State 
lof  Vermont,  as  an  instance  of  impulsive  feeling  oyercoming 
iDatural  timidity. 


i ; 


214 


THE  CANADIAN  TOREST. 


f: 


pose  frequents  the  water  as  well  as  the  black 
snake.  •    -  ' 

"  I  heard  a  gentleman  once  relate  a  circum- 
stance to  my  father  that  surprisoi  me  a  good 
deaL  He  was  fishing  one  day  in  a  river  near 
his  own  house,  but,  being  tired,  seated  himself 
on  a  log  or  fallen  tree,  where  his  basket  of  fish 
also  stood ;  when  a  large  garter-snake  came  up 
the  log,  and  took  a  small  fish  out  of  his  basket, 
which  it  speedily  swallowed.  The  gentleman, 
seeing  the  snake  so  bold  as  not  to  mind  his  pres- 
ence, took  a  small  rock-bass  by  the  tail,  and 
half  in  joke  held  it  towards  him,  when,  to  bis 
great  surprise,  the  snake  glided  towards  him, 
took  the  fish  out  of  his  hand,  and  sliding  away 
with  its  prize  to  a  hole  beneath  the  log,  began 
by  slow  degrees  to  swallow  it,  stretching  its 
mouth  and  the  skin  of  its  neck  to  a  great  ex- 
tent; till,  after  a  long  while,  it  was  fairly 
gorged,  and  then  slid  down  its  hole,  leaving  its 
neck  and  head  only  to  be  seen." 

"  I  should  have  been  so  frightened,  nurse,  if 
I  had  been  the  gentleman,  when  the  snake  came 
to  take  the  fish,"  said  Mary. 


-;il>'i:fr''-*jl:liijli^ij 


■  S^-'. •-.'■"■- 


SNAKE  FASCINATION. 


215 


!  black 

circum- 

a  good 

rer  near 

himself 

t  of  fish 

came  up 

s  basket, 

mtleman, 

I  bis  pres- 

tail,  and 

[en,  to  bis 

irds  bim, 

ng  away 

.g,  began 

sbing  its 

great  ex- 

as  fairly 

tying  its 

nurse,  if 
lake  came 


"  The  gentleman  was  well  aware  of  the  na- 
ture of  the  reptile,  and  knew  that  it  would  not 
bite  him.  I  have  read  of  snakes  of  the  most 
poisonous  kinds  being  tamed  and  taught  all 
manner  of  tricks.  There  are  in  India  and 
Egypt  people  that  are  called  snake  charmers, 
who  will  contrive  to  extract  the  fangs  contain- 
ing the  venom  from  the  Cobra  capella,  or  hood- 
ed snake ;  which  then  becomes  quite  harmless. 
These  snakes  are  very  fond  of  music,  and  will 
come  out  of  the  leather  bag  or  basket  that  their 
master  carries  them  in,  and  will  dance  or  run 
up  his  arms,  twining  about  his  neck,  and  even 
entering  his  mouth.  Thej  do  not  tell  people 
that  the  poison-teeth  have  been  extracted,  so 
that  it  is  thought  to  be  the  music  that  keeps 
the  snake  from  biting.  The  snake  has  a  power 
of  charming  birds  and  small  animals  by  fixing 
its  eye  steadily  upon  them,  when  the  little  crea- 
I  tures  become  paralyzed  with  fear,  either  stand- 
ing quite  still,  or  coming  nearer  and  nearer  to 
j  their  cruel  enemy,  till  they  are  within  his  reach. 
jThe  cat  has  the  same  power,  and  can  by  this 
art  draw  birds  &om  the  tops  of  trees  within 


216 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


her  reach.  These  little  creatures  seem  unable 
to  resist  the  temptation  of  approaching  her, 
and,  even  when  driven  away,  will  return  from 
a  distance  to  the  same  spot,  seeking,  instead  of 
shunning,  the  danger  which  is  certain  to  prove 
fetal  to  them  in  the  end.  Some  writers  assert 
that  all  wild  animals  have  this  power  in  the 
eye,  especially  those  of  the  cat  tribe,  as  the 
lion  and  tiger,  leopard  and  panther.  Before 
they  spring  upon  their  prey,  the  eye  is  always 
steadily  fixed,  the  back  lowered,  the  neck 
stretched  out,  and  the  tail  waved  jfrom  side  to 
side ;  if  the  eye  is  averted,  they  loose  the  ani- 
mal, and  do  not  make  the  spring." 

"Are  there  any  other  kinds  of  snakes  in 
Canada,  nurse?"  asked  Mary,  "besides  the  gar- 
ter-snake?" 

"Yes,  my  dear,  several;  the  black  snake, 
which  is  the  most  deadly  next  to  the  rattle- 
snake, is  sometimes  called  the  puff-adder,  as  it  j 
inflates  the  skin  of  the  head  and  neck  when 
angry.  The  copper-belHed  snake  is  also  pois- 
onouB.  There  is  a  small  snake  of  a  deep  grass  I 
green  Qok>ar  somelames  seen  in  the  fields  and 


« .5- »*<»«»«  iii(i»i«*ua;AC»w.''<««ft"**!?S®ij|fc 


L  unable 
ing  her, 
im  from 
istead  of 
to  prove 
ers  assert 
31  in  tlie 
e,  as  tlie 
'.    Before 
is  always 
the    neck 
>m  side  to 
se  the  ani- 


■!¥'' 


OA*  JMi  "SNAKE. 


217 


cipeti  copse^woods.  I  do  not  think  it  is  dan- 
gerous; I  never  heard  of  its  biting  any  one. 
The  stare-worni  is  also  harmless.  I  am  not 
sure  whether  the  black  snakes  that  live  in  th6 
water  are  the  same  as  the  puff  or  black  adder. 
It  is  a  great  blessing,  my  dear,  that  these 
deadly  snakes  are  so  rare,  and  do  so  little  harm 
to  man.  Indeed,  I  believe  they  would  never 
harm  him,  were  they  let  alone ;  but  if  trodden 
upon,  they  cannot  tell  that  it  was  by  accident, 
and  so  put  forth  the  weapons  that  God  has 
armed  them  with  in  self-defence.  The  Indians 
in  the  north-west,  I  have  been  told,  eat  snakes, 
after  cutting  off  their  heads.  The  cat  also  eatd 
snakes,  leaving  the  head;  she  Till  also  catch 
and  eat  frogs,  a  thing  I  have  witnessed  myseli^ 
and  know  to  be  true.*  .  One  day  a  snake  fixed 
itself  on  a  little  girl's  arm,  and  wound  itself 
around  it;  the  mother  of  the  child  was  too 
much  terrified  to  tear  the  deadly  feature  off, 
but  filled  the  air  with  cries.     Just  then  a  oat 

*  I  saw  a  half-grown  kitten  eat  a  live  green  frc^*,  w![iich 
she  first  caught  and  brought  into  the  parlour,  playing  with 
it  like  a  mouse.  -'W 

19 


Kf 


r.-r 


218 


THE  CANADIAN  FOBEST. 


came  out  of  the  house,  and  quick  as  lightning 
sprang  upon  the  snake,  and  fastened  on  its 
neck,  which  caused  the  reptile  to  uncoil  its 
folds,  and  it  fell  to  the  earth  in  the  grasp  of  the 
cat;  thus  the  child's  life  was  saved,  and  the 
snake  killed.  Thus  you  see,  my  dear,  that  God 
provided  a  preserver  for  this  little  one  when  no 
Jielp  was  nigh ;  perhaps  the  child  cried  to  Him 
for  aid,  and  He  heard  her  and  saved  her  by 
means  of  the  cat."  v. 

Mary  was  much  interested  in  all  that  Mrs. 
Frazer  had  told  her;  she  remembered  having 
heard  some  one  say  that  the  snake  would  swal- 
low her  own  young  ones,  and  she  asked  her 
nurse  if  it  was  true,  and  if  they  laid  eggs. 

"The  snake  will  swallow  her  young  ones," 
said  Mrs.  Frazer.  "I  have  seen  the  garter- 
snake  open  her  mouth  and  let  the  little  ones 
run  into  it  vhen  danger  was  nigh;  the  snake 
also  lays  eggs :  I  have  seen  and  handled  them 
often ;  they  are  not  covered  with  a  hard,  brittle 
shell,  like  that  of  a  hen,  but  with  a  sort  of 
whitish  skin,  like  leather;  they  are  about  the 
size  of  a  blackbird's  egg,  long  in  shape,  some 


s  .rM,''JIMM^.^-*X^i9*Mt'>ii»-'--:i^'M^it-^-':. 


'\(-:^'^'y,'''V\y,"{V^-''''''^y,Y.'K}'J' '''"'''■ 


^mmmk 


INSECrr  LARYJL 


2ld 


on  its 
icoil  its 
p  of  tlie 
and  the 
;liat  God 
wlien  no 
i  to  Him 
i  her  by 

bhat  Mrs. 
id  having 
uld  swal- 
jked  her 

eggs, 
ig  ones," 
,Q  garter- 
Little  ones 
;he  snake 
[led  them 
Ird,  brittle 
la  sort  of 

^bout  the 
.ape,  some 


are  rounder  and  larger.    They  are  laid  in  some 
warm  place,  where  the  heat  of  the  sun  and 
earth   hatch   them;    but   though   the   mother 
does  not  brood  over  them,  as  a  hen  does  over 
her  eggs,  she  seems  to  take  great  care  of  them, 
and  defends  them  from  their  many  enemies  by 
hiding  them  out  of  sight  in  the  singular  manner 
I  have  just  told  you.    This  love  of  offspring, 
my  dear  child,  has  been  wisely  given  to  all 
mothers,  from  the  human  mother  down  to  the 
very  lowest  of  the  insect  tribe.    The  fiercest 
beast  of  prey  loves  its  young,  and  provides  food 
and  shelter  for  them;  forgetting  its  savage  na- 
ture to  play  with  and  caress  them.    Even  the 
spider,  which  is  a  disagreeable  insect,  fierce  and 
unloving  to  its  fellows,  displays  the  tenderest 
care  for  its  brood,  providing  a  safe  retreat  for 
them  in  the  fine  sUken  cradle  she  spins  tx)  en- 
velop thv3  eggs,  which  she  leaves  in  some  warm 
spot,   where  she  secures  them  from  danger; 
some  glue  a  leaf  down,  and  overlap  it,  to  ensure 
it  from  being  agitated  by  the  winds,  or  dis- 
covered by  birds.    There  is  a  curious  spider, 
commonly  known  as  the  nursing  spider,  who 


I :: 


■mk 


■  v 


I  ' 


220 


THE  CANADIAN  TOBEST. 


w 


carries  her  sack  of  eggs  with  her,  whereyer  she 
goes ;  and  when  the  young  ones  come  ont,  they 
cluster  on  her  back,  and  so  travel  with  her; 
when  a  little  older,  they  attach  themselves  to 
the  old  one  by  threads,  and  run  after  her  in  a 
train."  •'     •;  '<'■•    • 

Maiy  laughed,  and  said  she  should  like  to 
see  the  fdnny  little  spiders  all  tied  to  their 
mother,  trotting  along  behind  her.  -  <  /; 
' "  If  you  go  into  the  meadow,  my  dear,"  said 
Mrs.  Frazer,  "you  will  see  on  the  larger  stones 
some  pretty  shining  little  cases,  quite. round, 
looking  like  grey  satin."  ") 

"  Nurse,  I  know  what  they  are,"  said  Mary ; 
"  last  year  I  was  playing  in  the  green  meadow, 
and  I  found  a  piece  of  granite  with  several  of 
these  satin  cases.  I  called  them  silk  pies,  for 
they  looked  like  tiny  mince-pies.  I  tried  to 
pick  one  off,  but  it  stuck  so  hard  that  I  could 
not;  so  I  asked  the  gardener  to  lend  me  his 
knife,  and  when  I  raised  the  crust,  it  had  a 
Kttle  rim  ur.der  the  top,  and  I  slipped  the  knife 
in,  and  Tfhat  do  you  think  I  saw?  The  pie 
was  fuJi  of  tiny  black  shining  spiders,  and  they 


i'J&cJ 


!^i^7j5'j^TWf«p^7!*''  ?p*-'^;7.-'  '"■-  "■  i'^-'^-'^  ■■■• 


CANADIAN  LAND-TORTOISE. 


221 


er  she 
t,  they 
h.  her; 
Ives  to 
ler  in  a 

like  to 
to  tlieir 

,,  ...  ,•  ..-, 
8T,"  said 
jr  stones 
Q ,  romid, 


ran  out,  such  a  number  of  them, — ^more  than  I 
could  count,  they  ran  so  fast.  I  was  sorry  I 
opened  the  ciust,  for  it  was  a  cold,  cold  day, 
and  the  little  spiders  must  have  been  frozen  out 
of  their  warm  air-tight  house:' 

"  They  are  able  to  bear  a  great  deal  of  cold, 
Mary — all  insects  can;  and  even  when  frozen 
hard,  so  that  they  will  break  if  any  one  tries  to 
bend  them,  yet  when  spr'Tig  comes  again  to 
warm  them,  they  revive,  and  are  as  full  of  life 
as  ever.  Caterpillars  thus  frozen  will  become 
butterflies  in  due  time.  Spiders,  and  many 
other  creatures,  lie  torpid  during  the  winter, 
and  then  revive  in  the  same  way  as  dormice, 
bears,  and  marmots  do." 

"Nurse,  please  will  you  tell  me  something 
about  tortoises  and  porcupines?"  said  Mary. 

"I  cannot  tell  you  a  great  deal  about  the 

tortoise,  my  dear,"  replied  her  nurse.     "I  have 

seen  them  sometimes  on  the  shores  of  the  lakes, 

and  once  or  twice  I  have- met  with  the  small 

land-tortoise,  in  the  woods  on  the  banks  of  the 

Otonabee  river.     The  shell  that  covers  these 

reptiles   is    black    and    yellow,    divided    into 
29* 


yi..:K..^j:.:^.:\ 


^/;^,;->,v:.^■  ^i 


Jl 


222 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


w 


squares — ^those  which  I  saw  were  aboat  the 
size  of  my  two  hands.  They  are  yery  harm- 
less creatures,  living  chiefly  on  roots  and  bitter 
herbs :  perhaps  they  eat  insects  as  well.  They 
lie  buried  in  the  sand  duri^jg  the  long  winters, 
in  a  torpid  state :  they  lay  a  number  of  eggs, 
about  the  size  of  a  blackbird's,  the  shell  of 
which  is  tough  and  soft,  like  a  snake's  egg. 
The  old  tortoise  buries  these  in  the  loose  sand 
neiar  the  water's  edge,  and  leaves  them  to  be 
hatched  by  the  heat  of  the  sun.  The  little  tor- 
toise, when  it  comes  out  of  the  shell,  is  about  as 
big  as  a  large  spider— it  is  a  funny-looking 
thing.  I  have  heard  some  of  the  Indians  say 
that  they  dive  into  the  water,  and  swim,  as 
soon  as  they  are  hatched  j  but  this  I  am  not 
sure  of.  I  saw  one  about  the  size  of  a  crown- 
piece  that  was  caught  in  a  hole  in  the  sand ;  it 
was  very  lively,  and  ran  along  the  iable,  mak- 
ing a  rattling  noise  with  its  hard  shell  as  it 
moved.  An  old  one  that  one  of  my  brothers 
brought  in  he  put  under  a  large  heavy  box, 
meaning  to  feed  and  keep  it ;  but  in  the  morn- 
ing it  was  gone :  it  had  lifted  the  edge  of  the 


■■Lii'^^.-. 


:,».:..'i»«.»»j«U'^  ii.,i»«-iivl.'i*«-l.»i .«» 


■  iTiiii   liiJT 


"♦/"•■■^>  -»v  ':^.; 


II,  * 


,t  ilie 
hami- 
"bittei 
THey 
inters, 
f  eggs, 
iiell  of 
i's  egg* 
se  sand 
a  to  be 
Lttle  tor- 
about  as 
l-looking 
ians  say 
wim,  as 
am  not 
i  crown- 
bud;  it 
jle,  mak- 
^11  as  it 
>rother» 
box, 
lc  morn- 
of  tbe 


CANAMAK  LAKD-TOIlTbIS.<?. 


228 


box  and  -was  away,  nor  could  he  find  out  how  . 
it  had  contrived  to  make  its  escape  from  the 
room.    This  is  all  that  I  know  about  the  Cana* 
dian  land-tortoise." 


'li^'iV 


I'- 


>1:r   '-t 


■..»  5!,. 


-}.|-<--s,    .     •    ■-* 


•     -^ 


.I....-  ♦• 


# 


■.■:.-:il 


'?Ki'^,  "-■*' 


tvtfh.'      '  :%+.(.• 


n 


(/ 


224 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


.,,  ,..f 


.A-t 


CHAPTER   XV. 


^^o! 


ELLEN     AND     HER     PBT     PAWNS DOCILITY    OF    PAN — 

jack's   droll   tricks AFPBCTIONATB   WOLF — FALL 

FLOWERS DEPARTURE   OP   MARY — THE   END. 

/^NE  day  Mary  came  to  seek  her  nurse  in 
^■^^  great  haste,  to  describe  to  her  a  fine  deer 
that  had  been  sent  as  a  present  to  her  father  by 
one  of  his  Canadian  friends.  She  said  the  great 
antlers  were  to  be  put  up  over  the  library  door. 

"  Papa  called  me  down  to  see  the  poor  dead 
deer,  nurse,  and  I  was  very  sorry  it  had  been 
killed ;  it  was  such  a  fine  creature.  Major  Pick- 
ford  laughed  when  I  said  so,  but  he  promised  to 
get  me  a  live  fawn;    Nurse,  what  is  a  fawn  ?" 

"  It  is  a  young  deer,  my  child." 

"  Nurse,  please  can  you  tell  me  any  thing 
about  fawns  ?  Are  they  pretty  creatures,  and 
can  they  be  tamed ;  or  are  «ney  fierce,  wild  httle 
things  ?" 

"  They  are  very  gentle  animals ;  and  if  taken 


''  i;; 


:-.-^A:;/:-Wi,«A- ..'■.i^i«_'.j::-i.'.>j.'-  .i„.-l4i. 


M 


CANADIAN  FAWNS. 


225 


v:     « 


^■,   '■■/ 


•1,' 
■      .:au' » 


\XfJ' 


V   TAN — 

LV FAUi 

D. 

nurse  in 
fine  deer 
father  by 
the  great 
|ary  door, 
loor  dead 

lad  been 
^jor  Pick- 

>mised  to 

:awii?" 

^ny  tbing 
res,  and 
rild  little 

if  taken 


young,  can  be  brought  up  by  sucking  the  finger , 
like  a  young  calf  or  a  pet  lamb.  They  are  play- 
ful and  lively,  and  will  follow  the  person  who 
feeds  them,  like  a  dog.  They  are  very  pretty, 
of  a  pale  dun  or  red  colour,  with  small  white 
spots  on  the  back  -like  large  hailstoi^es ;  the 
eyes  are  large  and  soft,  and  blacky  with  a  very 
meek  expression  in  them ;  the  hoofs  are  black 
and  sharp :  they  are  clean  and  delicate  in  their 
habits,  and  easy  *  and  graceful  in  their  move- 
ments."     ■-■•■     '■'   ■:■».;!' -J  ''..'  '  >•  ',  ,  .  .•.■■■•-.'  ;!:•■'■ 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  tame  fawn?"  asked 
Mary. 

"  I  have  seen  sevei  vl,  my  dear.  I  will  tell 
you  about  a  fawn  that  belonged  to  a  little  girl 
whom  I  knew  many  years  ago.  A  hunter  had 
shot  a  poor  doe,  which  was  very  wrong,  and  con- 
trary to  the  Indian  hunting  law  ;  for  the  nativo 
hunter  will  not,  unless  pressed  by  hunger,  kill 
the  deer  in  the  spring  of  the  year,  when  the 
fawns  Txe  young.  The  Indian  wanted  to  find 
the  little  one  after  he  had  shot  the  dam,  so  he 
sounded  a  decoy  whistle,  to  imitate  the  call  of 
the  doe,  and  the  harmless  thing  answered  it 


■  *  ..C(X"'X'^"Sh--, 


■::%.M'^^--i-t:t'<ii:.i::'i:li£:l^ 


,'  ^■K£i^<ifi/.ti^i:t.t_i^fy^ 


>\ 


226 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


l'^ 


'  t 


with  a  bleat,  thinking  no  doubt  it  was  its 
mother  calling  to  it.  This  betrayed  its  hiding- 
place,  and  it  was  taken  unhurt  by  the  hunter, 
who  took  it  home,  and  gave  it  to  my  little 
friend  Ellen  to  feed  and  take  care  of." 

"  Please,  Mrs.  Frazer,  will  you  tell  me  what 
sort  of  trees  hemlocks  are  ?  Hemlocks  in  Eng- 
land are  poisonous  weeds." 

"These  are  not  weeds,  but  large  forest  trees 
— a  species  of  pine.  I  will  show  you  some  the 
next  time  we  go  out  for  a  drive — they  are  very 
handsome  trees." 

"  And  what  are  creeks,  nurse." 

"  Creeks  are  small  streams,  such  as  in  Scot- 
land would  be  termed  *  burns,'  and  in  England 
rivulets."   ^_ 

"  Now,  nurse,  you  may  go  on  about  the  dear 
little  fawn ;  I  want  you  to  tell  me  all  you  know 
about  it." 

"  Little  Ellen  took  the  poor  timid  thing,  and 
laid  it  in  an  old  Indian  basket  near  the  hearth, 
and  put  some  wool  in  it  and  covered  it  with  an 
old  cloak  to  keep  it  warm;  and  she  tended  it 
very  carefully,  letting  it  suck  her  fingers  dipped 


M.rx 


..  Aw  ^;:;&i?«v^t.  :^»ri-4vSiJa 


POOR  TAN. 


227 


ras  itB 
tiiding- 
tiunter, 
y  little 

I 

le  wbat 
inEng- 

est  trees 
3ome  the 
are  very 


in  Scot- 
England 

the  dear 
^ou  know 

mg,  and 

le  hearth, 

It  with  an 

Itended  it 

Irs  dipped 


in  warm  milk,  as  she  had  seen  the  dairy-maid, 
do  in  weaning  young  calves.  In  a  few  days  it 
began  to  grow  strong  and  lively,  and  would 
jump  out  of  its  basket,  and  run  bleating  after 
its  foster-mother:  if  it  missed  her  from  the 
room,  it  would  wait  at  the  door  watching  for 
her  return. 

"When  it  was  older  it  used  to  run  on  the 
grass  plot  in  the  garden ;  but  if  it  heard  its 
little  mistress's  step  or  voice  in  the  parlour,  it 
would  bound  through  the  open  window  to  her 
side ;  and  her  call  of  *  Fan,  Fan,  Fan  1  would 
bring  it  home  from  the  fields  near  the  edge 
of  the  forest ;  but  poor  Fan  got  killed  by  a 
careless  boy  throwing  some  fire-wood  down 
upon  it,  as  it  lay  asleep  in  the  wood-shed. 
Ellen's  grief  was  very  great,  but  all  she  could 
do  was  to  bury  it  in  the  garden  near  the  river- 
sile,  and  plant  lilac  bushes  round  its  little 
gi:een-sodded  grave.'* 

"  I  am  so  sorry,  nurse,  that  this  good  little 
girl  lost  her  pretty  pet." 

"  Some  time  after  the  death  of  *  Fan,'  Ellen 
had  another  fawn  given  to  her.    She  called  this 


^\!Ji) 


'*■    ^'.I3 


'^ 


*  ■'«^.^# 


'Mh 


1€T 


r>^, 


THE  CANJU)IAN  FOREST. 


-ifj:  ' 


X 


one  Jack, — ^it  waa  older,  larger,  and  stronger, 
but  was  more  mischievous  and  frolicksome  than 
her  first  pet.  It  would  lie  in  fixjnt  of  the  fire 
on  the  hearth,  like  a  dog,  and  rub  its  soft  velvet 
nose  against  the  hand  that  patted  it  very  affec- 
tionately, but  gave  a  great  deal  of  trouble  in 
the  house:  it  would  eat  the  carrots,  potatoes, 
and  cabbages  while  the  cook  was  preparing 
them  for  dinner ;  and  when  the  housemaid  had 
laid  the  cloth  for  dinner.  Jack  would  go  round 
the  table  and  eat  up  the  bread  she  had  laid 
to  each  plate,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  chil- 
dren, who  thought  it  good  fun  to  see  him  do  so." 

"  Ellen  put  a  red  leather*  collar  aboitt  Jack's 
neck,  and  some  months  after  this  he  swam  across 
the  rapid  ifiver,  and  went  off  to  the  wild  woods, 
and  was  shot  by  some  hunters,  a  great  many 
^isUEiiles  away  from  his  old  home,  being  known  by 
his  fine  red  collar.  Aft«r  the  sad  end  of  her 
two  favourites,  Ellen  would  have  no  more  fiiwns 
brought  in  for  her  to  tame."         o:  ■  -^ 

Mary  was  much  interested  in  the  account  of 
the  little  girl  and  her  pets.  *'Is  thia  all  that 
you  know  about  fawns,  nurse?"     .     ■ 


■i^i'lii*': 


>''*_fcr-i?"i  .idJi: 


':'i:^:'  "■/'■;*^i' 


FAWN  VAGARIES. 

"  I  once  went  to  call  on  a  clergyman's  wife 
who  lived  in  a  small  log  house  near  a  new  vil- 
lage. The  youngest  child,  a  fat  baby  of  two 
years  old,  was  lying  on  the  rug  before  a  large 
log  fire,  feflt  asleep ;  its  little  head  was  pillowed 
on  the  back  of  a  tame,  half-grown  fewn  that  lay 
stretched  on  its  side,  enjoying  the  warmth  of 
the  fire,  as  tame  and  familiar  as  a  spaniel  dog. 
This  fawn  had  been  brought  up  with  the  chil- 
dren, and  they  were  very  fond  of  it,  and  would 
share  their  bread  and  milk  with  it  at  meal 
times ;  but  it  got  into  disgrace  by  gnawing  the 
bark  of  the  young  orchard-trees,  and  cropping 
the  bushes  in  the  garden ;  besides,  it  had  a  trick 
of  opening  the  cupboard,  and  eating  the  bread, 
and  drinking  any  milk  it  could  find;  so  the 
master  of  the  house  gave  it  away  to  a  baker  ' 
who  lived  in  the  village ;  but  it  did  not  forget  ^ 
its  old  friends,  and  used  to  watch  for  the  chil- ' 
dren  going  to  school,  and  as  soon  as  it  caught 
sight  of  them,  it  would  trot  after  them,  poking 
its  nose  into  the  basket  to  get  a  share  of  their 

dinner,  and  very  often  managed  to  get  it  all." 
20  , 


:! 


.4b. 


-  ■  .-^ 


m 


•rf 


!«  '4 


"X 


.■•S*^ 


'--^i 


Mt 


4^    IMli. 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


♦T:; 


"And  what  beceme  of  this  nice  fellow, 
nurse?"  ^" 

*'  Unfortunately,  my  dear,  it  was  chased  by 
some  dogs,  and  ran  away  to  the  woods  near  the 
town,  and  never  came  back  again.  Dogs  will 
^ways  hunt  tame  fawns  when  they  can  get 
''-  near  them,  so  it  seems  a  pity  to  domesticate 
them  only  .to  be  killed  in  so  cruel  a  way. 
The  forest  is  the  best  home  for  these  pretty 
creatures,  though  even  there  they  have  many 
enemies  beside  the  hunter.  The  bear,  the 
wolf,  and  the  wolverine  kill  them.  Their 
only  means  of  defence  lies  in  their  fleetness  of 
foot.  The  stag  will  defend  himself  with  his 
strong  horns ;  but  the  doe  and  her  little  fawn 
have  no  such  weapons  to  guard  them  when  at- 
tacked by  beasts  of  prey.  The  wolf  is  one  of 
the  greatest  enemies  they  have." 

"I  hate  wolves,"  said  Mary;  "wolves  can 
never  be  tamed,  nurse." 

!*I  have  heard  and  read  of  wolves  being 
tamed  and  becoming  very  fond  of  their  mas- 
ters. A  gentleman  in  Canada  once  brought  up 
a  wolf  puppy,  which  became  so  fond  of  him 


LOVE  OF  FREEDOM. 


281 


that  when  he  left  it  to  go  home  to  England,  it 
refused  to  eat,  and  died  of  grief  at  his  absence. 
Kindness  will  tame  even  fierce  beasts,  who 
soon  learn  to  love  the  hand  that  feeds  them. 
Bears  and  foxes  have  often  been  kept  tame 
in  this  country,  and  eagles  and  owls;  but  I 
think  they  cannot  be  so  happy,  shut  up  away 
from  their  natural  companions  and  habits,  as 
if  they  were  free  to  go  and  come  at  their  own 
wiU." 

"I  should  not  <  t6  be  shut  up,  nurfjc,  far 
away  from  my  own  dear  home,  said  the  little 
girl  thoughtfully.  "  I  think,  sometimes,  I  ought 
not  to  keep  my  dear  squirrel  in  a  cage — shaU 
I  let  him  go?" 

"  My  dear,  he  has  now  been  so  used  to  the 
cage,  and  to  have  all  his  daily  wants  supplied, 
that  I  am  sure  he  would  suffer  from  cold  and 
hunger  at  this  season  of  the  year  if  he  were  left 
to  provide  for  himself,  and  if  he  remained  here  . 
the  cats  and  weasels  might  kill  him."  i   -i! 

"I  will  keep  him  safe  from  harm,  then,  till, 
the  warm  weather  comes  again ;  and  then,  nurse, 
we  will  take  him  to  the  mountain,  and  let  him 


*■, 


M 


f,ti 


^'  a 


^-. .u..A^aa.>.j.i^,''SV;  r»w.,.^...,  .:.'....|^.J,:.;.  .    ^^  ...._■ 


>-■'■  !' 


:*■?•;*• 


^; 


123^ 


THE  CANADLAIT  POREST. 


■#- 


go,  if  lie  likes  to  be  free,  among  the  trees  and 
bushes."  ^       r.       ..  .'mA\ 

It  was  no-  ne  middle  of  October ;  the  rainy- 
season  that  usually  comes  in  the  end  of  Septem- 
ber and  beginning  of  October,  in  Canada,  -was 
over.  The  soft,  hazy  season,  called  Indian  sum- 
mer, -was  come  again ;  the  few  forest  leaves  that 
yet  lingered  -were  ready  to  fall — ^bright  and 
beautiful  they  still  looked,  but  Mary  missed 
the  flo-wers.  ^^ 

"  I  do  not  love  the  fall — ^I  see  no  flowers  now, 
except  those  in  the  greenhouse.  The  cold, 
cold  -winter  will  soon  be  here  agam,"  she  added 
sadly. 

"Last  year,  dear,  you  said  you  loved  the 
white  snow,  and  the  sleighing,  and  the  merry 
bells,  and  wished  that  -winter  would  last  all  the 
year  round." 

"  Ah  I  yes,  nurse ;  but  I  did  not  kr  ow  how 
many  pretty  birds  and  flowers  I  should  see  in 
the  spring  and  the  summer ;  and  now  they  are 
all  gone,  and  I  shall  see  them  no  more  for  a 
long  time." 


.  :■! :  '- 


};-.,<.■. 


««■.. 


^    LILAC  ASTERS.      '? 


'■',-WW: 


283 


f  "  There  are  still  a  few  flowers,  Mary,  to  be 
found ;   look  at  these." 

"  Ah,  dear  nurse,  where  did  you  get  them  ? 
How  lovely  they  are  I" 

p  "  Your  little  French  maid  picked  them  for 
you  on  the  side  of  the  mountain.  Kosette  loves 
the  wild  flowers  of  her  native  land."  ^ 

,;  "Nurse,  do  you  know  the  nimes  of  these 
pretty  starry  flowers  on  this  little  branch,  that 
look  so  light  and  pretty? 

"  These  are  asters ;  a  word,  your  governess 
told  n:  e  the  other  day,  meaning  starlike ;  some 
people  call  these  flowers  Michaelmas  daisies. 
These  lovely  lilac  asters  grow  in  light,  dry 
ground ;  they  are  among  the  prettiest  of  our 
Ml  flowers.  These  with  the  small  white  starry 
flowers  crowded  upon  the  stalks,  with  the  crim- 
son and  gold  in  the  middle,  are  dwarf  asters." 

"  I  like  these  white  ones,  nurse ;  the  little 
branches  look  so  nicely  loaded  with  blossoms ; 
see,  they  are  quite  bowed  down  with  the  weight 
of  all  these  flowers." 

"  These  small  shrubby  asters  grow  on  dry, ' 

gravelly  banks  of  lakes  and  rivers." 

20*  I 


...  ^ 


m 


^f^diiMiMiiiiWW^ 


234 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


M: 


"  But  here  are  some  large,  dark  purple  ones." 
"  These  are  also  asters ;  they  are  to  be  found 
on  dry  wastes,  >  stony,  barren  fields,  by  the 
comers  of  rail-fe.  t^s;  they  form  large  spreading 
bushes,  and  look  very  lovely,  covered  with  their 
large  dark  purple  flowers.  There  is  no  waste  so 
wild,  my  lady,  but  the  hand  of  the  Most  High 
can  plant  it  with  some  blossom,  and  make  the 
waste  and  desert  place  flourish  like  a  garden. 
Here  are  others,  still  brighter  and  larger,  with 
yellow  disks,  and  sky-blue  floweri ;  these  grow 
by  still  waters,  near  mill-dams  and  swampy 
places.  Though  they  are  larger  and  gayer,  I 
do  not  think  they  will  please  you  so  well  as  the 
small  ones  that  I  first  showed  you ;  they  do  not, 
fade  so  fast,  and  that  is  -qne  good  quality  they 
have." 

"  They  are  more  like  the  china  asters  in  the 
garden,  nurse,  only  more  upright  and  stiff;  but 
here  is  another  sweet  blue  flower — can  you  tell 
me  its  name  ?" 

"  No,  my  dear,  you  must  ask  your  governess." 

Mary  carried  the  nosegay  to  Miss  Campbell, 

who  told  her  the  blue  flower  was  called  the 


^■^^-"*^*^^"'^  ■-"'•'■"'• ■^^"■-i-^^---y»:.;^^'fi.f|-  — 


i»^M  iiimtiiiri!iM<ifai>>i*i<fc» 


■'■*.. 


■:;■:'(■: 


SWEET-SCENTED  EVERLASTINGS. 


285 


fringed  gentian,  and  tliat  tlie  gentians  and  as- 
ters bloomed  the  latest  of  all  the  autumn 
flowers  in  Canada.  Among  these  wild  flowers, 
she  also  showed  her  the  large,  dark  blue  bell- 
flowered  gentian,  which  was  iijdeed  the  last 
flower  of  the  year,  - 

"Are  there  no  more  flowers  in  bloom  now, 
nurse  ?"  asked  the  child,  as  she  watched  Mrs. 
Frazer  arranging  them  for  her  in  a  flower-glass. 

"  I  do  not  know  of  any  now  in  bloom  but 
the  golden  rods  and  the  latest  of  the  everlast- 
ings. Rosette  shall  go  out  and  try  to  get  some 
of  them  for  you.  The  French  children  make 
little  mats  and  garlands  of  them  to  ornament 
their  houses,  and  to  hang  on  the  little  crosses 
above  the  graves  of  their  friends,  because  they 
do  not  fade  away  like  other  flowers." 

Next  day.  Rosette,  the  little  nursery-maid, 
brought  Mary  an  Indian  basket  full  of  sweet- 
scented  everlastings.  This  flower  had  a  frag- 
rant smell;  the  leaves  were  less  downy  than 
some  of  the  earlier  sorts,  but  were  covered  with 
a  resinous  gum,  that  caused  it  to  stick  to  the 
Angers;  it  looked  quite  silky,  from  the  thistle- 


■#• 


a 


236 


THE  CANADIAN  FOBEST. 


down,  which,   falling  upon   the  leaves,  were 
gummed  down  to  the  surface. 

"  The  country  folks,"  jaid  Mrs.  Frazer,  "  call 
this  plant  neglected  Tcrlaai^ng,  because  it 
grows  on  dry  wastes  hy  road- sides,  among 
thistles  and  fireweed ;  but  I  love  it  for  its 
sweetness;  it  is  like  a  true  friend— it  never 
changes.  See,  my  dear,  how  shining  its  straw- 
coloured  blossoms  and  buds  are,  just  like  satin^ 
flowers." 

"  iNurse,  it  shall  be  my  own  flower,"  said  the 
little  girl,  "  and  I  will  make  a  pretty  garland  of 
it,  to  hang  over  my  own  dear  mamma's  pictiTre, 
Eosette  says  she  will  show  me  how  to  tie  the 
flowers  together;  she  has  made  me  a  pretty^ 
wreath  for  my  doll's  straw  hat,  and  she  means  ' 
to  make  her  a  mat  and  a  carpet  too." 

The  little  maid  promised  to  bring  her  young 
lady  some  wreaths  of  the  festoon  pine ;  a  low . 
creeping  plant,  with  dry,  green  chaffy  leaves, 
that  grows  in  the  barren  pine  woods,  of  which 
the  Canadians  make  Cl^istmas  garlands,  and 
also  some  of  the  winter  berries,  and  spice  ber- 
ries, which  look  so  gay  in  the  fall  and  early 


y  tiiitifaWvttfiitiiikiiiiftliiiMaaiiilito        -  in  II  ii>iir»i;' 


rrfMirii>»iii>rirwi 


•;»v 


•:V*; 


,*•'   :-.i 
';*■, 


HOME  ANTICIPATIONS. 


287 


spring,  with  berries  of  brightest  scarlet,  and 
shining  dark  green  leaves,  that  trail  over  tl;io 
ground  01  the  gravelly  hills  and  plains. 

Nurse  Frazer  brought  Mary  some  sweetmeats, 
flavoured  with  an  extract  of  the  spicy  winter 
green,  from  the  confectioner's  shop;  the  Can- 
adians being  very  fond  of  the  flavour  of  this 
plant  The  Indians  chew  the  leaves,  and  eat 
the  ripe  mealy  berries,  which  have  something 
of  the  taste  of  the  bay-laurel  leaves.  The  In- 
dian men  smoke  the  leaves  as  tobacco. 

One  day,  while  Mrs.  Frazer  was  at  work  in 
the  nursery,  her  little  charge  came  to  her  in  a 
great  state  of  agitation — ^her  cheeks  were  flushed, 
and  her  eyes  were  dancing  with  joy ;  she  threw 
herself  into  her  arms,  and  said,  "Oh I  dear 
nurse,  I  am  going  home  to  dear  old  England 
and  Scotland.  Papa  and  mamma  are  going 
away  from  Government  House,  and  I  am  to 
return  to  the  old  country  with  them ;  I  am  so 
glad,  are  not  you?"      ||^^^^  * 

But  the  tears  gatherW  in  Mrs.  Frazer's  eyes, 
and  fell  fast  upon  the  work  she  held  in  her 


''.t!.'-S 


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amMKitlmi^mtAiMMiMm^k  IT  ,iV  iijj 


..*' 


•,'*• 


288 


THE  CANADIAN  FOREST. 


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hand.  Mary  looked  surprised,  when  she  saw 
how  her  kind  nurse  was  weeping.  i 

"Nurse,  you  are  to  go  too,  mamma  says  so ; 
now  you  need  not  cry,  for  you  are  not  going  to 
leave  me."         .  *  **^  • 

"I  cannot  go  with  you,  my  dearest  child," 
whispered  her  weeping  attendant,  "  much  as  I 
love  you ;  for  I  have  a  dear  son  of  ray  own.  I 
have  but  him,  and  it  would  break  my  heart  to 
part  from  him ;"  and  she  softly  put  aside  the 
brigtit  curls  from  little  Mary's  fair  forehead, 
and  tenderly  kissed  her.  "This  child  is  all  I 
havf^  in  the  world  to  love  me,  and  when  his 
father,  my  own  husband,  died,  he  vowed  to 
take  care  of  me,  and  cherish  me  in  my  old  age, 
and  I  promised  that  I  would  never  leave  him ; 
BO  I  cannot  go  away  from  Canada  with  you, 
Mary,  though  I  dearly  love  you."  »,- 

"  Then,  Mrs.  Frazer,  I  shall  be  sorry  to  leave 
Canada ;  for  when  I  go  home,  I  shall  have  no 
one  to  talk  to  m^  about  beavers,  and  squirrels, 
and  Indians,  and  flowers,  and  birds." 

"Indeed,  my  dear,  you  will  not  want  for 
amusement  there,  for  England  and  Scotland  are 


mm  irnl<til>'i'ntfir«'     >iiii'     uiin*  i 


ill'      m  I  iMhi 


MAna 


11    I        "Wi  "'liiillii 


.*, 


tilTrLE  MARY*S  NUKSB. 


289 


saw 


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It  for 

are 


liner  places  than  Canada.  Your  good  governesa 
and  your  new  nurse  will  be  able  to  tell  you 
many  things  that  will  delight  you;  and  you 
will  not  quite  forget  your  poor  old  nurse,  I 
am  sure,  when  you  think  about  the  time  you 
have  spent  in  this  country." 

"  Ah,  dear  good  old  nurse,  I  will  not  forget 
you,"  said  Mary,  springing  into  her  nurse's  lap, 
and  fondly  caressing  her,  while  big  bright  tears 
fell  frcm  her  eyes. 

There  was  so  much  to  do,  and  so  much  to 
think  about  before  the  departure  of  the  family, 
that  Mary  had  no  time  to  hear  any  more  stor- 
ies, nor  to  ask  any  more  questions  about  the 
natural  history  of  Canada;  though,  doubtless, 
there  were  many  other  curious  things  that  Mrs. 
Frazer  could  have  related ;  for  she  was  a  person 
of  good  education,  who  hacl  seen  and  noticed 
as  well  as  read  a  great  deal.  She  had  not  al- 
ways been  a  poor  woman,  but  had  once  been  a 
respectable  farmer's  wife,  though  her  husband's 
death  had  reduced  her  to  a  state  of  servitude ; 
and  she  had  earned  money  enough  by  her  own 


,lr.-..i'JSi;M'--#i 


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■"SplflP*  ""9  •'*■'"■ 


-  *-  -^mmwlmmmim^im 


240 


THE  OANADIAJX  FOIUEST. 


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exertions  to  educate  her  son,  and  this  was  how 
she  came  to  be  Mary's  nurse.  .  ^  'i^ 

Mary  did  not  forget  to  have  all  her  Indian 
curiosities  packed  up  with  some  dried  plants 
and  flower  seeds,  collected  by  her  governess; 
but  she  left  the  cage,  with  her  flying  squirrel, 
to  Mrs.  Fiazer,  to  take  care  of  till  the  follow- 
ing spring,  when  she  told  her  to  take  it  to  the 
mountain,  or  St  Helen's  Island,  and  let  it  go 
,.  fi:fee,  that  it  might  be  a  happy  squirrel  once 
4  more,  and  bound  away  among  the  green  trees 
in  the  Canadian  woods. 

When  Mrs.  Frazer  was  called  in  to  take  leave 
of  Mary's  fiither  and  mother,  after  receiving  a 
handsome  salary  for  her  care  and  attendance 
.  on  their  little  daughter,  he  gave  her  a  sealed 
parchment,  which  when  she  opened,  was  found 
to  contain  a  Government  deed  for  a  fine  lot 
of  land,  in  a  fertile  township  in  Upper  Canada. 
It  was  with  many  tears  and  blessings  that 
Mrs.  Frazer  took  leave  of  the  family  which 
had  been  so  kind  to  her;  and,  above  all,  of 
her  beloved  charge,  little  Mary.       , 


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